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maukree · 5 months ago

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Masterpost with all parts Yay, here we are. Part 2 of my *not quite Civil War (616)—The Messiest Divorce in Superhero History specifically (or Civil War, which is mostly actual Civil War just for this part, with very little winteriron)—where everything gets dark, painful, and incredibly shippable for so many ships. Not gonna lie, the whole point of these posts is for me to catch up before I start working on my MTH fill for the 616-canon-heavy winteriron fic, and also to have a convenient resource to link to if MCU-only fans actually choose to read it and want to know what happened in canon versus what is complete bullshit for my writing pleasure. That said—this event is a goldmine for all kinds of ships. So I’ve snagged the juiciest bits for your reading (and thirsting) pleasure because every ship is valid, and I don’t discriminate. (Though, I have my favorites, so they’re gonna stand out.) Now—Tumblr has a 30-image limit per post, and I am not about to split Civil War into multiple parts here, so there is a lot of ground to cover in this. There will be more parts after this, so you get one post for Civil War specially, with as much crammed into it as I can, laid out as simply as possible—for me, and hopefully for you too. P.S. While my cover image lists the overall timeline and which series I discuss in terms of winteriron, Civil War and this part here hits the fan right smack in the middle of Captain America and The Invincible Iron Man (they each get a few issues inside), but there’s a lot of other crap happening too elsewhere. I’m not about to unpack every superhero’s massive tie-in series here in equal detail, but I will mention others before the first BIG fight and how they pertain to Tony, Bucky, Steve and Peter—because, obviously, that’s who we’re here for, and Peter is in the middle... 'cause he is kind of important here. If you want the full, issue-by-issue breakdown of every tie-in, crossover, and emotional kick in the nuts that happened, and you didn’t like the five-hour video I sent you to in Part 1, Marvel’s got you covered with their Complete Guide to the Civil War Event (or which order to read it at, which I am following here, sort of.) *visuals are after each arc/issue covered. Fair warning: this has a lot of food for irondad or starker, but this is canon, so just deal with it. K, click that Read More button, and let’s goooo into “holy shit, why are they like this?”

If you read this part you will know where Tony, Bucky and Steve are just after 616 Civil War is won by one side.

What triggered Civil War for real / Was used as an excuse for registration? Basically, the U.S. government has been side-eyeing caped vigilantes for years—tolerating their sometimes helpful, sometimes catastrophic crime-fighting because, well, they weren’t technically employees. Things had been escalating for a while, but the final straw was when a group of young, reality-TV-era superheroes (The New Warriors) tried to do their thing, and—shocker—it went terribly. Some guy called Nitro (not part of the New Warriors, just a villain doing villain things) exploded next to an elementary school during a fight with that chirpy young group, killing over 600 people, including a lot of kids. There was a national outrage, and nothing gets the government’s attention quite like untrained superhumans causing massive collateral damage in broad daylight that people complain about. Suddenly, Congress, the media, and your grandma had an opinion on whether superheroes should be running around unchecked, which has resulted in the Superhuman Registration Act (SRA or, sometimes SHRA)—which most people are probably more familiar with from the X-Men movies and whatnot (where it was basically “Mutants, go register”), or as the comic book equivalent of the Sokovia Accords in the MCU. The SRA demanded that all superheroes:

Reveal their identities.

Undergo training.

Operate under official oversight.

Which… totally sounded reasonable to some people. But only some people. Sure, about half of the superhero community saw it as necessary law and order, but the other half saw it as the death of personal freedom. And that is how this Marvel Civil War came about in the comics. (They did have a second one waaaay later, but I am not getting into that.) The easy comparison with MCU here is:

Team Pro-Registration (led by Tony).

Team Anti-Registration (led by Steve).

Where it gets VERY different:

It has very little (nothing, but he's around) to do with Bucky.

It's long.

A lot of people are involved.

Fighters on each side die.

It gets twisted and very much downhill from here as far as Tony's bromance with Steve goes (or on the up, depends on how much you like your angst). And, yes, there is a possibility some of the characters would've remained alive (but, like, a lot of Marvel characters die and come back even more often in the comic books) if Tony and Steve had just fucked it out, honestly. The Amazing Spider-Man (1999): Mr. Parker Goes to Washington (#529-531) (Not actually released in 1999—the series itself started in 1999. Marvel’s way of naming shit and constantly renaming it will break your head, I swear.) This specific three-parter covers Tony dragging Peter into the most emotional relationship drama to ever drama. For clarity (and because I think I’m too funny and can’t resist commenting along), while Civil War is gearing up, Tony starts making deeply emotional decisions under the guise of strategy, and his first move is to recruit Peter and make sure he is on his side. Because obviously, if you’re about to start a massively controversial government-backed superhero initiative, the first person you want in your corner is the kid with no money, another tragic backstory, the worst luck in the history of caped crusading, but a very good sense of right and wrong. At this point in the timeline, Peter is living with Tony in the Avenger's tower, Tony is already acting like his chaotic billionaire stepdad while Peter is hitting it off with the Avengers on the daily. For real, Peter even calls him “Dad” once or twice, although mostly, he calls him “boss” and, what, do you know, he is actually his intern. MJ is staying with Peter, but you can ignore that. So what actually happens here relevant to Civil War beginnings: Tony takes Peter to Washington, D.C., where he’s testifying before Congress about superhero accountability. While in D.C., Tony gives Peter a new version of the Iron Spider suit (like two days after another new version ’cause he can’t stop spoiling him or, like, gearing him up for war or something, idk...) and starts laying the groundwork for making him his right-hand. There are a lot of father/son vibes, mentor/protégé vibes, and if you’re reading this through a Starker lens, well—Tony spends a lot of time complimenting Peter, and putting a hell of a lot of emotional weight on his presence.

Fact: Tony genuinely cares about Peter in here (not looking at it through starker lens right now, trying to think winteriron long game here), but he’s also desperate for allies as the political pressure builds. Because Peter is not just a good boy for Tony but good in general, he is clearly conflicted from the beginning about the government stepping in to control superheroes, but Tony reassures him that it’s the right thing to do and that he is actually working on stalling it and making sure it stays under control (he is being hella shady). Peter also trusts Tony implicitly (big mistake, buddy), and because this is the road to Civil War and not just Fun Congressional Trips With Tony and Pete, we also get some early signs of how badly this is going to go for everyone involved. So, Peter backs Tony up (as Peter, hiding his identity and later as Spider-Man, refusing to reveal his identity at the meeting), showing loyalty to Tony despite his own lingering doubts. This whole arc is really about Tony starting to make moves to secure the Pro-Registration side, and Peter—bless him—doesn’t fully grasp what he’s getting into yet. This is an awesome arc to read for anyone who likes Tony and Peter in any capacity, but it’s so clear that Tony doesn’t just care about Peter here—he needs him. He is also the guy who will, very soon, break Peter’s heart, and it’s very gutting. Like, they kick the whole event off with this, and you can feel your heart bleed in advance. Why this Matters for Civil War: Tony starts Civil War with Peter at his side, which will make it all the more painful when it inevitably falls apart. Peter’s trust in Tony is absolute at this point, and that will change—violently. Tony also secretly hires a bad guy to attack them in D.C. to make a point, and this should really be one of the many signs on how seriously Tony's starting here from the very beginning.

In Fantastic Four #536-537, Thor’s hammer crash-lands on Earth. This is a big deal because, at this point, Thor is 'not around', but everyone is trying to get their hands on his nutcracker. Naturally, Doctor Doom shows up, because if something cool falls from the sky, he’s contractually obligated to try and steal it. The reason the hammer is important is because Reed Richards is around for this, so while he’s not fully immersed in Civil War beginnings yet, he’s about to be. Also, Thor and his hammer specifically play a massive part in Civil War (stick a pin in that mental note). Doom doesn’t get the hammer, obviously, it just chills there because nobody can lift it. Following the Fantastic Four issues (but also technically happening before them—just go with it), we have New Avengers: Illuminati (2006) #1, which is basically a bunch of rich, powerful men sitting in a room and making decisions that will screw over everyone else. This issue gives us the Illuminati’s response to the SRA, aka a lot of self-important posturing. The Illuminati (Tony, Reed Richards, Namor, Doctor Strange, Black Bolt, and Charles Xavier) gather to discuss how this whole registration thing is about to go down. And—shocker—they do not agree. Everyone except Reed and Tony, who tend to agree on more things than people give them credit for, thinks that the SRA is a massive disaster waiting to happen. T'Challa is there too, and while he loves being complemented on how pretty his country is, he still tells them to fuck off. Politely. Namor flips off Tony too and nearly drowns him. It's a cool action sequence. So, nothing too exciting, but good to know. That said, this is side content I don’t personally care about, but will splash in here and there for basic understanding as needed, and not spend image limit on it (unless it extra cool).

Civil War (2006) #1 This is where things aren’t just leading to the breakup of Tony and Steve—this is where everything fully hits the fan. I’ve already covered the tragedy and the public outrage/last trigger for SRA, but let’s talk about a lovely parallel happening in the aftermath. During the funeral for the folks who died, Tony gets spit on. A grieving mother blames him personally for the deaths of all those children, since he's kinda bankrolling Avengers and stuff, and while Tony was not even remotely involved in this paticular Nitro-exploding and killing kids mess—just the cleanup—he takes it HARD. (Yeah, remember how badly he took everything in the movies? It's worse in the comics, and the woman is aggressive about it.) And regardless of whether it’s comic books or movies, if there’s one thing Tony cannot handle, it’s being told that his inaction led to innocent people dying. This is where his shady, kind-of-sorta “leaning” into supporting registration cements itself into a full send. Unfortunately for both sides of this war, Fury is nowhere to be found to smack some sense into people, because he pissed off the U.S. government (again) and is currently persona non grata. So instead, Maria Hill is running S.H.I.E.L.D, calls in Steve for a little chat, while a bunch of other heroes are off in various places having their “Should we let the government own our asses?” powwows. Hill, naturally, expects Steve to be the poster boy for the Superhuman Registration Act, because, you know, Captain America = America, right? Big mistake. Huge. I don’t know if it’s the way she talks to him in her “I’m in charge now, shut up and do what I say” tone, or the fact that she basically says, “Hey, so here’s the deal—there’s a new law coming down. You’re going to help us enforce it, and we’re going to use S.H.I.E.L.D. to make sure every superhero signs up. Cool? Cool.” Either way, Steve's response is HELL NO. Hill, in her usual charming manner, reacts to being blown off by trying to arrest him. Which is hilarious. Steve then proceeds to beat the crap out of some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, escape the Helicarrier, and go underground. But not to hang out with Fury who pops up at a later stage. Just underground, officially becoming the face of the Anti-Registration movement. Now, I’m probably not being fair to Hill (I actually do like her), but I am also Switzerland when it comes to comic book Civil War (and MCU Civil War), because both Tony and Steve are being absolute fucking idiots about literally everything in either canon. Frankly, Bucky is the only smart one when this takes place, and mostly 'cause he’s nowhere to be seen yet after ghosting Steve in London. He’s out there somewhere, probably drinking whiskey in a safe house, brooding about his past crimes, cleaning his guns, and for now busy NOT giving a single fuck about what's going on. While the love of his life that he hasn’t met yet (reminder: this is a winteriron timeline) is going out of his way to become the most hated man in the superhero community. Sad.

She-Hulk (2005) #8 is mostly a pointless tie-in to Civil War in the context of what I am trying to do here, but we do get a peek at Tony’s methods and how he’s running his “Collect ’Em All” campaign for Pro-Registration allies. Jennifer Walters (She-Hulk), has a bunch of things going on somewhat related to the main event, but the only one you need to know here is that Tony makes an appearance to give her information she needs for a case she is working on—“for free, not asking for anything, no strings attached” of course (which, lol, sure, Tony). This is a good look at how Tony operates. He’s not exactly strong-arming people right away, but you’d have to be blind not to pick up on the “Pick a side or get picked for one” vibes. In general, his methods vary through the Civil War, but you have to give it to him, he is very creative and approaches each person in a wickedly unique way. Crafty. He's crafty. In Wolverine (2003) #42, Logan is seen catching some heat and getting the “You’re not welcome here anymore” treatment from randoms, demonstrating how the baseline folks are reacting to what’s going on (although, when does he not get this heat, honestly?). He gets into a few debates with fellow supers about how the SRA is giving Nazi vibes, all while side-eyeing the Sentinel parked outside the X-Mansion pretending to be a lawn ornament and suspecting it’s not actually there for their “safety”. Wolverine isn’t my favorite in general, but he slaps in this, because instead of sitting around and yapping about whose side he’s on, he’s one of the few people actually making sense and decides that Nitro—the asshole who kickstarted this and exploded all over the place, killing all the people—hasn’t been rolled over by an avenging tank yet and it should probably be done. Right? The man has a point. Avengers. Tony tells him to drop it because “we have bigger problems”, but Logan is like “Yeah, nah” and sets off on a mission to gut Nitro with a fork (or, well, six of them), since someone here has priorities and actually takes being an Avenger (which he has been for a few months only tbh) seriously. I am not gonna talk about Wolverine much after this, so feel free to hunt down his issues on your own.

Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #532 This is one of my favorite issues, honestly, because this is the moment Tony asks Peter for everything, and Peter realizes what his loyalty to Tony actually means. In short, they visit the White House together (Tony brings him along to all the cool places, as you can see), and Peter’s life as he knows it gets irreversibly fed. This issue is a massive turning point because Tony wants a lot. And I mean, a lot. Up until this point, every time Spider-Man’s identity has been revealed, it’s been because a villain unmasked him—never voluntarily. But now, with the SRA officially getting signed by the president, the rules are clear: If you don’t register, you and your entire family become fugitives. Your assets will be confiscated, your safety will be gone, your life will be over, etc. AND if you do sign up, you might also have to snitch on others and hunt them down. Like… tough. Very tough. Tony, being the dramatic bastard that he is, casually admits to the President that he is Iron Man right there in the Oval Office, while Peter is completely missing this historic moment because he’s looking for a bathroom, checking out Secret Service agents, and admiring priceless art. (I respect his priorities.) Then comes the Big Ask. Tony wants Peter to do the same—to stand beside him and publicly reveal that he is Spider-Man to the world. Peter, reasonably, is not down for this plan at all initially, but Tony, ever the master manipulator with a heart, leaves Peter with a choice. (Sort of. Which is really no choice at all, if you think about it, since, if Peter refuses, his entire life crumbles.) MJ and Aunt May (especially May) help him process the decision, and while they ultimately support him, Peter himself is still torn right up until the last second. Even when he’s about to go to Tony with a YES, he still considers running. He even makes the arrangements to run, but doesn’t. The issue ends with Tony and Peter standing side by side at a podium, about to make this announcement. This issue slaps for both irondad and starker, honestly.

Civil War: Front Line (2006) #1 While superheroes are busy picking sides, Front Line follows the journalists stuck in the middle, trying to cover this mess—specifically Ben Urich (Daily Bugle, professional shit-stirrer) and Sally Floyd (indie journalist, professional snarker). The two of them are trying to make sense of the SRA fallout, tracking how the government is spinning the Stamford disaster (all those dead kids). In the same issue, Speedball—one of the good guys who accidentally got a school full of kids blown up when he was fighting Nitro—gets arrested, which is awkward as hell and also the first time on the page where someone flashes their S.H.I.E.L.D. badge to start arrests, signaling that things are starting to get really serious. Speedball has a VERY bad time after his arrest and is often used to remind us all that the places where supers who didn't fall in line go are not a spa. At all. Since this is essentially a press room issue, it ends with the reveal of Tony’s identity—that same press conference where we last left him with Peter. And LOL, DUDE, you do not begin this shit with “Hello. I am Tony Stark, and I am an alcoholic.” This. Is. What. He. Says. YES. While Peter is next to him, shaking in his boots and waiting for his very private life get gutted into pieces to support Tony's agenda.

Civil War (2006) #2 Following the first arrest, things are properly rolling downhill now. More arrests, the first betrayals, and the first real punches are about to happen. Tony, still fully committed to the government’s golden boy arc, is working with S.H.I.E.L.D. to form his superhero task force to hunt down the noncompliant capes. Steve has been AWOL since flipping off Hill but there is a resistance going on. I mean… it sounds good, right? For now, Tony looks like a total dick, and Steve is the hero. As a note, however, Tony is not being a complete blind asshole here, and does struggle with hoping they are doing the right thing just before SRA officially becomes law. Because comics don’t release in a neat timeline, the end of this issue is also where we get some lovely art of Peter unmasking during that press conference (the art shifts between comics, enjoy it and deal with it).

At this point, Civil War is fully spiraling, and the “oh shit, this is getting worse” moments are stacking up. In Thunderbolts (2006) #103, Tony and his team sign up the Thunderbolts—a group of villains-turned-government-enforcers (not to be confused with the MCU version, and no, Bucky is not here yet). And what is their job is to hunt down villain holdouts and then recruiting them to hunt down more holdouts. Yes, the plan is literally “let’s get criminals to enforce the law.” Things are just getting plain weird and scary and in Civil War: Front Line (2006) #2, the press and civilians are starting to get real nervous about how Tony is taking down people who used to be on the side of good with very little prejudice for not complying. Essentially, the whole “this is about protecting people” argument is starting to look flimsy AF when actual normal people are watching buildings collapse and their heroes get thrown into Superhero Guantanamo. Nobody is having a good time at this stage, but, to lighten the mood, Peter gets fired from the Daily Bugle via headline: “YOU’RE FIRED!”

New Avengers (2004) #21 is where we properly get into Steve’s headspace, and IT IS HILARIOUS. This issue is basically Steve being alone and sad after flipping off Maria Hill and instantly regretting everything, including his own existence. He angsts for most of it, because of course he does, and at some point, Bucky makes a 0.5-second flashback appearance, because it wouldn’t be a Steve issue if he wasn’t feeling sorry for himself and reminiscing about people he’s lost. The vibe here is “I should draw my feelings or write a book” (multiple panels on him trying to do that), but instead of actually dealing with his trauma of being a fugitive, which he is very upset about, he just… keeps brooding. Then S.H.I.E.L.D. sends Dum Dum Dugan to bring Steve in, and that’s when the paranoia kicks in. Suddenly, Steve is feeling betrayal from all angles (fair), and even Falcon catches some suspicion, even though they are best buds in this, since Bucky is out there gallivanting somewhere, not getting involved yet. After Steve and Falcon reunite, they set off on a noble quest titled: “Let’s Make Civil War About Peter Parker, Because He’s the First Pick for Everyone.” They gently stalk Peter to see if he’d be down to join Team Cap, but they are very late. Steve is devastated, because Peter once called him cute, and now Peter is already firmly on Tony’s side, kinda-sorta-but-actually-yes. And if that wasn’t enough betrayal for one issue, Hank Pym tries to help S.H.I.E.L.D. to arrest Cap, which really just solidifies the whole “Steve is having the worst week of his life” situation. Maybe if Steve had actually talked to Peter instead of stalking him, Peter would have called him cute again, and Civil War would have ended right there, since our sunshine babydoll can make everyone see light. But alas.

As you probably picked up on already, Peter is right smack in the middle of this, as mentioned about 10,000 times. In Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #533, they fully cover how much his life went to absolute shit after that press conference. It wasn’t just getting fired. Everyone wants a piece of him now. Some people want to kill him, a lot of people want to fuck him, and the internet is absolutely losing its collective mind. (For real—his unmasking breaks the internet, including the porn sites. FACTS.) At the same time, Peter is deeply uneasy about everything, and Tony is “comforting” him while simultaneously sharpening his betrayal knife. The same knife where Tony does not ASK Peter if he wants to be part of his superhero-hunting strike force and instead, he just signs him up publicly without permission. Peter, already on his WTF is going on subplot, doesn’t even get time to process any of this properly before Tony cranks the drama to 11, piling on on top of his little 'favor' to reveal his identity and says: “Hold my beer, meet your new teammates, and get ready—because the dying is about to fucking start tomorrow.” Whelp.

Things don’t actually escalate to full-on hero-on-hero-we-give-a-crap-about murder aka THE BIG WTF MOMENT just yet (patience), but people are getting hurt just for trying to not pick a side, and crime is skyrocketing because, shockingly, when heroes are too busy planning on punching each other, villains thrive. In Fantastic Four (1998) #538 Johnny is in a coma because a mob beat him within an inch of his life just for existing as a super, the Fantastic Four are already crumbling and even Reed’s own family thinks he’s being a dick. (And they are correct.) He is so firmly on Tony’s side that it’s almost embarrassing, and I suspect some consensual touching is involved to be this stupidly on board with Tony, but I digress here too, since I don’t even know if this is a ship. There’s some setup happening for later events, but we’re not going Mariana Trench deep here, so let’s move on. Oh, someone does pick up Thor’s hammer. I wonder who that is. Over in Civil War: Front Line (2006) #3, the press is still deep in the trenches, and there is a lot of talking happening. Everyone is talking. Some folks are being interviewed. Nobody is doing shit. It's getting... boring. It's also getting very confusing.

BUT.

We are FINALLY, at least in this ‘brief’ (ah, who the fuck am I kidding here) recap, at the stage where I am mentally prepared to talk about The Great Civil War Standoff (aka, Please, Just Start Punching Already) and promptly skip to HOLY FUCK NOT THIS MUCH PUNCHING, boooooys, what are you doing??? (I rock myself in the corner.) As mentioned, the whole thing sorta stalls while each side is staring at each other with deep, unspoken yearning, waiting for the BIG fight, while smaller fights start breaking out all over the place. And because event comics are an actual nightmare, I am going to stop talking about the tie-ins here. I’ve set the scene, now just assume there’s a TON of random skirmishes happening, Cap and Spider-Man have already thrown hands (yo, this pretends to be a winteriron timeline, go look for your shippy business elsewhere, I am hungry), a bunch of unimportant extras are getting hurt or worse, and at this point, it’s just Tony vs. Steve and their twisted moral compasses playing an extremely violent game of chicken. I know, I know—I am taking a big skip after I just dropped an obscene amount of lore on you. But listen. Event tie-ins, and I cannot state it enough, are so messy and out of order while… being in order, sorta. You get to one good bit, and then Marvel chucks another 2,000 issues between you and the next good bit, and suddenly, you’re sitting there, waiting for the cliffhanger to be explained while trying to remember why the hell you should care what Quicksilver was doing five minutes before it happened and why you can’t just skip ahead to the yummy shit. Headache material, honestly. So, anyway. The scene has been set. Yay. Civil War is in progress. What we know now and what I am desperately trying to remember here:

Bucky is still in the wind.

Steve’s resistance is being annoying and resisting, but occasionally making sense, gaining traction, and also getting innocent people hurt left and right.

Tony is entering his “I am a very scary man” era and is also getting people hurt left and right, both physically and emotionally.

Peter is still with Tony but is having a minor existential crisis every five minutes on the account of emotional hurt, and barely any other Marvel issue in this timeline doesn't have an opinion on why he is still with Tony, is he sucking his dick or what, 'thought he was the good guy'/'ah yeah, this is why Tony needed him', etc.

The X-Men are staying out of it, mostly, because they’ve seen this movie before.

Deadpool and Cable, as well as about a gazillion other supers, have their own shit going on, but I refuse to get into that.

The Thunderbolts are being shady, surprise surprise, and they only get an honorable mention here ‘cause I’ve mentioned them earlier to demonstrate Tony’s spiral into being not just a bit of an asshole but very much an asshole.

Reed is so into Tony that he’s about to do something crazy. (I don’t even know if the touching is consensual at this point, since he is absolutely whipped by Tony, and it stinks of Stockholm syndrome.) So, now that we have decided on where we are and had a cup of tea/smoke, let’s have a look at the actual Civil War issues as they proceed, Captain America Civil War issues and Iron Man issues, skip a bunch of other important shit after, but ultimately, get to where we need to be before Part 3 of me posting (some other day) because I want to talk about Tony and Bucky and not about Civil War.

Civil War (2006) #3 Alright, we are finally here, because Civil War #3 is where shit gets real. Tony, being the tactical genius and emotionally constipated mess that he is, decides that it’s time to spring a trap on Team Cap. He and his Pro-Reg team set up a fake distress call because Steve is Steve, and if there’s even the slightest chance someone needs saving, he’s gonna show up. Boom. Steve does, of course, and Steve and his Underground Resistance walk straight into it. This finally gives us the most tense superhero standoff so far, with S.H.I.E.L.D. hovering overhead, a ton of supers on both sides locked, loaded, and ready to throw hands, and Peter right in the middle, not knowing how the fuck he got stuck with this lot. Tony, to his credit, tries to be the adult here. He actually reaches out, extends an olive branch, and tries to talk some sense into Steve before this escalates into full-out war (okay, okay, he tells him to chill the fuck out and comply, in slightly different words, but there is an actual amnesty Tony has worked out if Steve goes willingly, so he did try). Steve, being the absolute icon of stubbornness that he is, nods. Agrees to talk, at least. And immediately tries to take Tony down using some sneaky tech. Which gives us Tony vs. Steve, and it is GLORIOUS. These two beat the absolute crap out of each other, while everyone else on their respective teams also starts brawling (dozens/hundreds), with caped bodies flying, punches being thrown, and Peter still mostly blinking, but also fighting, while being upset that he failed to mediate between his two extremely stupid super dads and is not enjoying the whole “exhausted child of divorce” role they’ve been trying to pin on him. The fight between Tony and Steve is brutal, but Tony actually has an edge, since he’s Extremis-enhanced, a tech genius, years ahead in strategy, bla-bla-bla—so Steve is struggling. It goes on for a while, this fight, and then, the cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers. Because Thor (codename “Lightning”—this is important) shows up to backup Team Tony. Which shouldn’t be a big deal, right? We suspected it, since hammer and all, but... christ.

Civil War #4 is where we go from “Oh shit” to “OH FUCK NO.” The Thor that shows up at the end of Civil War #3 is not… actually Thor? Only in comic books, folks, since he’s a clone that Tony, Reed, and Hank Pym cooked up in a lab. While Team Cap is a bit shook, (they take Thor being a god of thunder seriously, he’s also been presumed dead for ages), Tony is trying to get Steve to give up, but Steve is having none of it. It seems largely (ha!) in favor of Team Tony right now, until Goliath (a massive giant person, can shrink down, used to be buddies with Thor, actually) shows up for Team Cap and Thor… kills the fuck out of his nice buddy, making everyone, Tony included, freeze in a “what the actual fuck just happened?” terror, since innocents getting hurt and extras getting hurt are sorta… whatever, but this is one of their own, technically, biting it. Team Cap calls for a retreat, very shook, and Reed’s Sue Storm is the first important superhero to straight-up bail on the Pro-Registration side right this moment because she is DONE with this bullshit and with Reed, who has been such an asshole to Fantastic Four, honestly—not giving a crap about Johnny being in a coma and possibly (at the very least emotionally) cheating on her with Tony. Sue is so done that she shields Team Cap long enough for them to get away, and after the fight writes Reed a dramatic “I’m leaving you, please feed yourself, there’s oily fish” note, and takes Johnny (who is no longer in a coma, yay!) with her to fight the good fight, or a fight, as long as it's not on Reed's side. And on both sides, folks on the sideline are starting to really question leadership and what kind of fight it really is. Peter is actually asking, “Wait… are we the baddies?” having massive doubts about Tony, and Steve doesn’t seem to give a shit how many of his friends get hurt, and it’s all very fucking gutting and not even a little funny. In general, this looks bad for both Steve and Tony, because Steve is throwing his side against Tony’s like cannon fodder and doesn’t seem to listen to anyone’s opinions on the fact that amnesty is at least worth discussing at this point, and Tony is after causing massive (ha!) death with a faulty clone, so a lot of superheroes are—if not outright bailing and changing sides now—at least considering it. Tony actually pays for Goliath’s funeral, since he was a cool guy and didn’t shrink down after dying. Had to buy him a massive amount of plots because, well… giant. Has a gutting interaction with his widow that tries to remind him what Tony is doing this for to begin with. For me this is a very important issue for Tony's character in this. He pays for Goliath’s funeral, because that’s who Tony is—he genuinely does care. But instead of acknowledging that this is the moment to stop, to rethink, to pull back, he keeps going, because, sadly, caring doesn’t stop him from marching forward and getting deeper and deeper into this.

Captain America (2004) #22 – The One Where Steve Gets Laid (and Sharon Gets Therapy for related reasons)

While Tony and Steve are busy emotionally wrecking each other on a public stage, we take a brief (very) detour into the mess that is Steve Rogers’ love life. Hill, who has been on a power trip ever since Fury went underground, decides that since Steve is still out there resisting like a stubborn bastard, someone needs to bring him in. And who better than his kinda-ex, kinda-current, definitely-in-love-with-him S.H.I.E.L.D. agent girlfriend?

Sharon is not thrilled because she’s really not here for the double standards. Like, Tony liaises (👀) with half of the superhero community, according to her, and the better half of S.H.I.E.L.D and nobody gives him shit, but the moment she has a little love crisis and starts questioning where her loyalty actually lies, suddenly, it’s a whole thing.

But fine. Mission accepted.

Sharon sets out to “bring Steve in”—by which I mean she tracks him down, immediately bangs him, and then quotes dead presidents at him in the post-coital glow. And because it's also Steve's love language, he also starts quoting dead presidents back. (If you’ve ever wondered what Steve’s pillow talk is like, now you know.)

Now, in case you were still wondering whether Sharon is truly down bad for Steve, let’s talk about how she sabotaged her own mission by giving the strike team (cape-killers) the wrong address. On purpose. So she could a) bang Steve and b) display her undying passion for those dead president quotes.

And this is why Sharon is in therapy. Because, as it turns out, this is how S.H.I.E.L.D. traditionally deals with traitors.

For those who remember what I talked about in Part 1 of this pre-civil war, here is something: Red Skull and Lukin are still out there, watching all of this unfold like it’s their personal Netflix binge, and they are THRIVING. They love that the heroes who should be stopping them are too busy punching each other instead. And because they are absolute dickheads, they are also actively manipulating Sharon’s emotions to make her feelings for Steve even stronger.

(Which explains the banging. Though, let’s be honest—she was into it.)

Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #535 (and half of the next Spider-Man-specific issue, sorta) – The One Where Tony Officially Breaks Peter’s Heart (And Ours) Alright, kids, this is it, and you should be thankful I made you crack a smile over dead presidents (hopefully), because this is crying-level shit.

This is where Peter starts realizing that maybe, just maybe, signing up with Tony was a colossal fucking mistake— and not just sorta feeling it.

Tony, still deeply entrenched in his “I Am the Government Now” phase, still has a soft spot for Peter (awww, tragic) and when Peter demands to see where the prisoners he is bringing in and not loving it are kept, Tony decides that it’s time to give Peter the full tour of the Negative Zone prison (a very dodgy place, tbh).

And our science nerd, all-around good guy, man with a conscience—takes one look at the absolute nightmare Tony has built and goes, “Wait. What the actual fuck is this? You can't be serious.” Tony: “Oh, yeah, this? This is where we’re locking up heroes who don’t register. Indefinitely. Without trial. In a literal alternate dimension, so no lawyer can ever get them out.” Peter, blinking hard, possibly resisting the urge to throw up: “…Excuse me?” Peter tries to confront Tony about it, he does, but very quickly catches on that Tony is not above implying he can do the same to him. Which is… whelp.

The whole conversation goes something like this, if you want a slightly longer version (see visuals for the full one): Peter: “Hey, Tony, quick question—what the fuck?” Tony: “Ah, Peter, my boy, don’t worry about it, this is for the greater good.” Peter: “The greater good? Again, what the fuck?” Tony: “You’re being dramatic.” Peter: “Am I? Am I though?” Tony: “Peter…” Peter: “Dad?” (happens) Tony promptly tries to ship Peter off on some other business to get him to cool off, but Peter is finally on board with the fact that this man has cracked, and he no longer feels safe around him. He doesn't even trusts MJ and Aunt May with Tony anymore (threats have been made) and tries to take them and go on the run. And then… He and Tony end up exchanging punches. God, it’s so bad and upsetting, you have no idea. I have no jokes for this, and ship it, don’t ship it, but this is the ultimate betrayal on Tony’s part. Peter is falling apart after, barely escaping, not knowing where to go, and Tony… is also feeling heartbroken, equally as gutted. I’m gonna leave this here for now, since we need to go into some other issues before we continue with this plotline. But you get me, yes? I need tissues when I think about this.

Captain America (2004) #23 - BUCKY!

Alright, everyone, take a deep breath. We are finally getting to the Bucky part of this winteriron timeline.

Bucky is officially entering the chat, and he is looking DAMN FINE while doing it, got a new hair-dew + arm and everything. He also has a lot of feelings while breaking into a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility to pull some spy shit for Fury, because of course he is, and I am devastated I am running out of image limit here soon.

He’s absolutely judging Steve for leading a resistance movement and somehow not inviting him... and sorta doing it the way he's doing it.

He’s also side-eyeing Tony for being a government stooge, even though that’s neither here nor there, since they don’t actually know each other at all (yet), but awareness is awareness, and it still doesn’t stop him from forming an opinion.

Bucky is, in fact, just generally pissed. And sexy. Always sexy. But the best part—and why Bucky really should be shaking hands with Peter here (another shoutout to winterspider)—is that Bucky is watching Steve and Tony’s breakup in real-time and judging both of them.

His basic thoughts on the matter boil down to “Wow, I left you two alone for five minutes, and this is what happens?” since while Steve and Tony are out here making Civil War everyone’s problem, Bucky is off-screen, forced into being hot and competent, actually doing something productive by hunting real villains.

He has zero actual desire to get involved in the war itself, though he does seem to be more pro-Steve, obviously, and is way more concerned about Red Skull and Lukin than he is about whatever the hell Steve and Tony are doing.

Speaking of villains, Red Skull, who we find out is using Doom’s tech but not actually working with him, is under the impression that the whole Civil War was his big, evil, successful plan. (It wasn’t, everyone contributed, but let’s humor him.)

On the slightly more angsty side—because Bucky never misses an opportunity for angst, picked it up from Steve—he does blame himself a little bit for Civil War, since some of the shit he did when he first got defrosted was cited as part of the long-ass list of “Why the SRA Needs to Exist.” Not that he’s spiraling over it, but he’s self-aware enough to recognize he helped fuel the fire. But mostly, he’s doing what Bucky kicks ass at—being hot in shadows, judging everyone, avoiding Steve’s nonsense, avoiding Tony’s nonsense, and handling actual problems. God, I want his babies.

Civil War (2006) #5

Where we swing back to Tony being a massive dick about almost everything—except for the fact that he loves Peter, one way or another.

At this point, they are sorta in the process of arguing/fighting (there is some timeline overlap), Peter is trying to run away from him, and when S.H.I.E.L.D. is about to take it too far, Tony absolutely panics because he cannot see Peter hurt.

But Peter is now technically a fugitive, and Tony’s side has recruited some deeply unhinged people, so it’s open season on Spidey, with very specific instructions that Peter is to be brought in alive and unharmed—no matter what.

That would have been great… except Peter is now running on pure panic and heartbreak, immediately realizes he is completely fucked, ends up in a stinky sewer, and gets his ass kicked into next week.

He almost dies but gets saved by Punisher of all people, who promptly brings him to Steve and the Resistance (where Sue and Johnny are pretending to be a married couple for a mission, which is weird—let’s not talk about it).

Meanwhile, Tony is spiraling. Again.

His entire strategy is falling apart, Sue Storm has already dumped Reed over this bullshit war, Steve is still out there leading his resistance, and now his own protégé—his son in all but name—has turned against him.

Tony is visibly wrecked over Peter’s defection, but since he has the emotional processing skills of a brick, he just channels all that heartbreak into “fine, let’s get Daredevil arrested next” energy, which he does—for which he is given a piece of silver and called Judas. (Brutal.)

That’s not to say Tony doesn’t care. He very clearly does, and this issue makes it obvious that he still sees Peter as a kid who needs protection, even when Peter himself doesn’t want it. But his way of showing it is, unfortunately, locking up Peter’s friends in a pocket dimension and putting a hit out on him (technically), so, uh… yeah.

Meanwhile, Steve is also getting more extreme, starting to questionably recruit people he normally wouldn’t, and letting Punisher into his little rebellion. (Which is definitely going to end well. Totally.) He is also over the moon Peter is on his side now and announces it to the others while... Peter is still unconscious. Now tell me both Steve and Tony are not simply fighting here over who gets to read him a bedtime story? Come on.

The Invincible Iron Man (2004) #13 & Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #536: (Tony’s Possible Career Change & Peter’s “Fuck You” Tour)

Alright, so The Invincible Iron Man (2004) #13 is technically Tony’s first solo Civil War issue, but fuck all actually happens.

It’s mostly a lot of “Tony, what the fuck are we doing?” meetings, brooding with some old friends, chatting to Happy while being deeply unhappy, and simultaneously spiraling, yet still, and committing war crimes in the name of national security. (Multitasking, sure.)

But one major thing does happen here, and while it’s just an offer at this point, it’s HUGE:

They start floating the idea of Tony taking over as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

At this point, S.H.I.E.L.D. is still running itself into the ground under Maria Hill’s special brand of leadership, but someone suggests that maybe, just maybe, the guy who is single-handedly running the actual show anyway should just be in charge of the whole thing.

And while that doesn’t happen just yet, it changes EVERYTHING for what happens post-Civil War. When it finally comes, is going to be a game-changer for his relationship with Bucky later on. (Yes, we are keeping our winteriron priorities straight, thank you.)

So, while this is happening and I am yawning 'cause Tony's first issue is so fucking underwhelming, in the Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #536, we pick up from Peter’s dramatic escape and near-death sewer experience, and things are finally coming to a head.

Peter, now officially 100% done with Tony’s bullshit, does something that could not be a bigger middle finger if he tried.

He digs out his old, classic Spider-Man suit (because fuck the Iron Spider, fuck you, Tony, I called you Dad unironically, you were my family, WTF), goes on national TV, and gives a full speech dragging the entire SRA, the Civil War, and Tony himself.

And as a helpful reminder here… Peter is not a “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man” in these comic books—he is a fucking legend, a bright, shining beacon of good for so many people (while still a menace to others, of course), and what he says actually matters.

For all of my shippy jokes and the subtext, there is a real reason why both sides want him. And it’s not just because he’s hella adorable and can kick things really hard.

When he talks, people listen. And when he does start talking, he absolutely obliterates the SRA, calls it unconstitutional, publicly calls out the people supporting it, and tells the world that he refuses to be part of it anymore. Tony loses his shit.

Okay, okay, some food for thought here, for once not related to ships I see everywhere (I have a sick mind and you are somehow still reading this, so don't ask me what's wrong with me and I will not ask you what's wrong with you).

Now, before anyone grabs their pitchforks, this is not me defending Tony’s actions (man makes a LOT of mistakes, obviously), but it is also worth remembering that he’s not a total monster here. He genuinely believes that what he’s doing is necessary, and unlike in the MCU where it’s all “let’s get a leash because one building blew up and we might have destroyed a country” the 616 version of Tony actually has a more thought-out (if deeply flawed) reason for being on the Pro-Reg side.

So, what is Tony trying to sell people on here?

Superheroes need to be trained. The trigger event for the SRA was a bunch of untrained, reality-TV-era heroes going up against a villain way out of their league, and as a result, a school full of children exploded. From Tony’s perspective, this was preventable. If these heroes had been properly trained, those kids (and some other people, but I mostly say kids, this is me not being nitty-gritty accurate about everything) wouldn’t be dead. This is not entirely wrong, but his method of fixing it is basically turning superheroes into government employees and locking up anyone who doesn’t comply, which is… less great.

The public has lost trust in superheroes. And Tony, unlike Steve, actually cares about public perception, comes with his brand and all. He sees this as a way to restore faith in the superhero community by offering transparency and accountability. The problem is obviously the way it’s being enforced is, again, deeply flawed and increasingly authoritarian.

The alternative, in his mind, is worse. He is absolutely cracked as far as Peter is concerned (fair), but here’s where Tony’s futurist brain actually screws him over—because he is not wrong when he says that if the superheroes don’t regulate themselves, the government will do it for them, and it’ll be worse. He thinks he’s getting ahead of the inevitable, but instead of negotiating and making sure the law is fair, he enforces it like an actual jackbooted stormtrooper.

So yeah, Tony is still a mess, and he’s still doing a lot of fucked-up things, but his core reasoning isn’t as evil as some people paint it in here and maybe even not as bad as I paint it overall in this recap.

He truly thinks he’s saving lives and making the world safer. He’s just doing it in the most morally questionable, emotionally compromised way possible, and at some point, even he knows it’s spiraling. That doesn’t excuse the Negative Zone prison or bounty hunting his own allies, engaging in shady business and, Jesus Fuck, cloning Thor, but it does explain why he started down this path in the first place. Tony is also on the side of the law and, for the most part, public opinion here (mostly, since actual normal public is scared AF right now). The problem is, the law isn’t always right, and Tony, in all his genius, somehow keeps forgetting that.

Now let’s hop over to Steve (“Oh No, Babe, What Are You Doing?” should be the title of his entire movement) and talk about how his ideals are great but his execution is a trainwreck. Look, Steve is not wrong—but he’s also not right in the way he thinks he is. And the biggest issue with Steve in Civil War is that his entire approach boils down to “Fuck No.” That’s it. No. No compromise. No alternative plan. Just hardcore, unwavering, freedom-loving NO. Steve’s Core Beliefs in Civil War:

"This is about freedom." Steve believes heroes should have the right to make their own choices about when and how they act, and he fundamentally rejects the idea that they should be forced to register. (Fair point, buddy, but maybe think of a Plan B? No? Cool, cool.)

"If the government can force us to do this, what’s next?” Steve has read a history book before and is fully aware that government overreach never stops at just one bad idea. And considering how mutants have already been treated (X-men and mutants are a very persecuted group here), he is not about to wait around and find out what comes next.

“I will not be controlled.” Instead of seeing if there’s a way to meet halfway or at least slow things down, Steve immediately goes, “Fuck this,” ditches his government job, and starts an underground resistance movement.

Which brings us to Steve’s biggest flaw in Civil War. Where Steve Screws Up:

Steve doesn’t even TRY to negotiate. Tony, for all his shady billionaire manipulation tactics, at least pretended to be open to discussion. Steve refused outright. Instead of using his influence to propose a better system when he still absolutely can, he straight-up vanishes into the night like Batman with extra patriotism.

His resistance is a mess. Unlike Tony, who is (somewhat) organizing a structured system, Steve’s team is basically “whoever wants to punch the government in the face” with no real plan beyond “resist.” He takes Punisher in, for crying out loud. There are no rules, no real discussions about alternatives, and no clear path forward with Steve's movement at all. This means his resistance is a bunch of scared, desperate heroes who are putting civilians in danger while trying to evade capture and kinda... all want to go home.

He is willing to let people get hurt for his cause. People are getting hurt left and right, not just his own team but also civilians caught in the crossfire. Instead of adapting or trying to find a smarter way forward, Steve just keeps doubling down, because this man went all-in on a bad bet and refuses to walk away from the table.

He does not listen. To anyone. A lot of people would have been on his side if he had actually tried to talk about a solution instead of running headfirst into a guerrilla war. Even when his own people start to question him, he digs his heels in and refuses to budge. Fuck them and the horse they rode in on is basic response to any "Emm... dude?"

Steve vs. Tony: The Real Tragedy

Steve sees Tony as a sellout, Tony sees Steve as reckless and the reality here is that they’re both kind of right.

Steve is fighting for freedom, but his method is chaotic and ultimately very dangerous. Tony is trying to prevent chaos, but his method is authoritarian, ruthless, and deeply problematic. And this is why Civil War is what it is. And why it is a lot more fun than the MCU one, if you properly get into it. At the end of the day, comic book Civil War isn’t just about laws and the SRA—it’s about two men who genuinely believe they’re doing the right thing, both completely incapable of seeing the middle ground. And, well… it all ends in disaster, obviously.

Captain America (2004) #24: In which Steve takes a page out of Bucky's book and punches the right people (for, like, 5 whole seconds) for a change. Finally! A break from all the Civil War emotional trauma to remind us that, yeah, Steve is a hero first, war criminal second. I am gonna guess it’s because we’re getting close to the finish line here (you are nearly free, yay!), so they just had to show Steve fighting someone other than his own friends for once. Progress. For… reasons.

He’s still knee-deep in Civil War Resistance mode, but he remembers for one night that there are actual bad guys in the world and focuses on a real threat: Hydra. (Or Hydra-adjacent assholes. And explosions. Lots of explosions.)

So, in this quick issue, Steve teams up with Sharon, who is now secretly working with Fury (who is still underground being an off-brand James Bond with a cigar budget, doing his own resistance thing much better), and together, they take on some good ol’ Hydra goons. Well, Steve takes on Hydra goons by blowing them up (probably killing them, but let’s just say “off-screen unconsciousness” for the sake of the PG-13 rating), and Sharon rolls in with her flying car to rescue him from S.H.I.E.L.D.

And, oh yeah, Red Skull is still lurking in the background, thriving on the fact that the Civil War is keeping everyone too distracted to stop him. He’s over here cackling like a Scooby-Doo villain, making sure Steve and Tony stay too busy ruining each other’s lives to notice he’s playing puppet master behind the scenes. (Smart move, honestly. Props to him for being the one guy who actually planned his shit out properly.)

Look, the details might be fuzzy (it’s getting late for me here), but the core takeaway is this: Cap is actually being Captain America again for an entire issue—stopping real threats, foiling evil plans, and protecting people instead of just yeeting his side at Tony’s.

The Invincible Iron Man (2004) #14

A good Tony issue following a good Steve issue… I wonder why that is. Not a good issue in the sense that Tony’s thriving—oh no, this man is drowning in consequences—but good in the sense that we finally get a proper deep dive into the emotional wreckage that is Tony Stark, destroyer of friendships, king of bad decisions, and certified government tool (actual fucking tool, honestly, but I love him and he can have Bucky’s babies, though I am not into mpreg).

This issue is actually packed.

Happy is dying in a hospital bed, Steve is still actively resisting arrest, Peter is on a fugitive road trip, and Sue Storm is ready to rip Tony’s head off for ruining her marriage. The government is still offering him more power, because sure, let’s give the stressed-out man on the verge of a breakdown full control over the most powerful intelligence agency on Earth.

Anyhow… not to go into too much detail here, but Tony cannot resist one last chance to talk things out with Steve and arranges a stadium meeting with Cap. You might think, “Oh, good, they’re going to try reasoning with each other like adults!” HAHAHA, NOPE.

The meeting lasts about five seconds before it devolves into a fight, which Steve… starts again. The emotional tension is through the roof, Peter is there too (aww, hurts), and they’re not just fighting over the SRA, they’re fighting over their entire broken relationship. If someone played “It’s Time to Go” by Taylor Swift over this sequence, it would fit perfectly.

Though Tony actually mostly fights with Peter here and still manages to pay him a compliment in the process, giving us hope that not all is lost, which we desperately need. But overall, the whole thing is still a disaster. Life is fully kicking Tony's ass from all directions, the temptation to drown it in whiskey is creeping back in, he is considering hitting the bottle, and… Tony is at a crossroads. He’s losing everyone who ever mattered to him, his side is looking increasingly shady, and the weight of everything is crashing down on him. We actually get some raw, human, vulnerable Tony, instead of just “mustache-twirling villain” Tony. So yeah, finally, a good Tony issue.

In case you were wondering, Peter is in fact fully on team Cap now, not just for the stadium fight, and in the Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #537 still has his morals intact (bless him), and this issue is about reinforcing that.

So, Steve—who is now basically Peter’s new/old father figure, 'sits' him down and hits him with the big speech.

And, my GOD, does he deliver it.

He drops one of the most iconic Captain America monologues in all of comic book history:

“Doesn’t matter what the press says. Doesn’t matter what the politicians or the mob say. Doesn’t matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences.”

And you just know this wrecks Peter emotionally, because this is exactly the kind of moral backbone that made him idolize heroes in the first place. This is the moment where Peter fully solidifies his stance. He’s not just on Team Cap because he got burned by Tony—he believes in what Steve is saying. Tony is having an emotional crisis over Peter leaving, which I completely understand, and... Peter also throws some flirty one-liners at the Cap, since our babe can't help it.

Civil War (2006) #6 and we are at maximum endgame (ugh, still hurts) mode now.

At this point in the war, neither side is even pretending to be civil despite moments of personal growth, slash remembering who they are, and both Steve and Tony have fully committed to their respective roles as Head of the Underground Resistance (Steve) and CEO of Government Overreach Inc. (Tony).

We start off with Tony and Reed in full villain arc, sipping coffee and talking about how crime rates are dropping (I have no idea how, since all the superheroes are busy beating the shit out of each other instead of fighting crime, but never mind me), and immediately move on to the Punisher deciding today is the day for homicide.

He sneaks into the Baxter Building (as one does) to steal information on “Number 42” which is not Tony’s latest suit model but instead the name for his prison in the Negative Zone where they’re throwing unregistered heroes indefinitely and that caused Peter and Tony to block each other on Facebook.

Totally normal, non-dystopian behavior, nothing to see here.

Sue Storm is out here making power moves too, pulling up to Atlantis and trying to convince Namor to get off his fishy ass and help Team Cap. Namor, in true “I am too sexy to care” fashion, basically shrugs and says, “Surface problems? Sounds like a you problem,” before dramatically flipping his cape and walking away. (Sue, girl, I admire the effort and only mention it, cause you are one of the very few truly likable characters in this Event.)

Back at Team Cap’s HQ, Steve unveils his master plan: an all-out raid on the Negative Zone prison to free their captured allies. The team is hyped, ready for action—until Punisher casually murders two villains in cold blood right in front of everyone because they dared to ask if they could help. Steve, who may be a war criminal but still has standards, absolutely loses it and beats the hell out of Frank before throwing him out of the rebellion.

Tony on his end is having an emotional meeting with Miriam Sharpe (aka, “Tony’s #1 Fan Who Also Made Him Feel Like Shit at That Funeral”). He throws some cash at a pretty garden with angels for the dead kids, she thanks him for all his hard work but also makes it clear that, yeah, this war is costing him everything. (Gee, thanks for the reminder, Miriam, I’m sure Tony didn’t notice he’s lost literally all of his friends by now.)

The issue ends with Steve pulling a classic Uno Reverse Card on Tony. The Pro-Reg forces think they’re about to stomp the rebellion once and for all, but—surprise, bitches!—Team Cap knew there was a mole in their ranks (Ragnarök, I’m looking at you, you Dollar Store Thor knockoff), and they had Hulkling impersonate Hank Pym to sneak in and free all the captured heroes before the fight even starts. So, yeah. Big-ass battle incoming, and I can nearly go to sleep.

Civil War (2006) #7 You’ve made it! (I low-key question if anyone actually did make it this far, but I am very into this now, so…)

This is the big one. The final battle. The moment where all this superhero divorce drama comes to a head, and oh my God, it is so much.

So, after about a million issues of emotional devastation, betrayal, and Peter collecting father figures like infinity stones, we finally get the massive all-out brawl between Team Cap and Team Tony. And when I say massive, I mean half the Marvel Universe is throwing hands in the middle of New York City. Superpowered beings are crashing through buildings, explosions are going off everywhere, and don't ask me why they thought “protecting civilians” and “obliterating the city” were compatible ideas.

Steve and Tony really do go at it like two exes who just found out they were sleeping with the same person (Peter, doll, what are you doing? Kidding, kidding).

Steve is beating the absolute shit out of Tony, and Tony—who is running on the fumes of guilt and exhaustion—lets him.

Because Tony is ready to die. That’s right. Tony, who has been holding onto control like his life depends on it (because it literally does), just gives up, drops the metaphorical gloves, and basically tells Steve: “Go ahead, finish it.”

And Steve almost does.

(Not to draw parallels here, but Bucky tried to pull the same move with him and proceed with murder-kill when he was brainwashed. What's Steve's excuse here?)

Like, Steve almost wins. The Resistance might not have, but Steve does. He is seconds away from beating Tony to actual death in the middle of the nightmare they’ve caused—but then. Civilians. Regular-ass, non-superpowered, completely terrified people tackle Steve to the ground.

They’re not protecting Tony (maybe a little, it's up for debate, see the panels)—they’re stopping Steve. Because holy shit, Steve. Look at what you’ve done. Steve does. Look. And finally sees it.

The destruction, the sheer chaos, the city that’s half in ruins because of this war. He sees the fear in their eyes and realizes that this isn’t about freedom anymore. He’s lost the plot. They’ve all kind of lost the plot, and someone has to give up, and he will not let Tony beat him to it.

So, Steve. Fucking. Stops.

He takes off his mask, drops his shield, and says, “It’s over.” He turns himself in. He turns Steve Rogers in specifically, essentially following the law, and Team Cap officially loses the war.

At the end of this, Tony—bruised, in desperate need of a good fuck (hey, Bucky, where you at?), and still internally monologuing about how the fuck his life turned into this—is appointed Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. And this is how, after so many words, christ, the Civil War officially, techically ends, and the winteriron timeline can properly begin. Happy tears, I am crying happy tears right now.

So, Part 3 of this ‘brief’ (lol) timeline is coming ASAP, and it does deliver on some juicy Bucky and Tony interactions—actual on-page moments, not just me connecting the angst dots with wishful thinking, promise.

And if you’re thinking things might slow down now—oh, my sweet summer child. We are only just getting to the fun part, since Captain America essentially becomes Bucky’s comic book. The stakes are different, the players have shifted, but Tony and Bucky finally start existing in the same space.

If Civil War was crazy, what happens next is the part where we go off the rails entirely in the best possible way.

To confirm, where we are:

Bucky is in the wind but possibly smoking cigars with Fury.

Bad guys who were ignored for this Event do have some plotty evil planned.

Tony is in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D. and he still has to keep hunting down anti-registration supers.

Steve is alive and in jail. For now.

And Peter—oh God, I have to mention this, because I must, and this just further confirms that some of the editors were shipping Peter with someone other than MJ.

So, Peter is an absolute disaster, thanks for asking. And if you know comic books and reading this just to laugh at me getting shit wrong and are wondering, “Wow, does she about to mention One More Day?”—yes. Yes, I am. And I don’t want to talk about it. But I will, just for a second.

One More Day (2007) is Marvel committing a crime against humanity.

It’s a four-issue arc where Marvel editorial decided Peter was too happy and needed to suffer more, so they erased his marriage to MJ from existence. (Ah, yeah, he was married to her this whole time, in case I didn’t mention it, but I was too busy pushing Starker on people if the winteriron angle didn’t work out.)

Basically, after Civil War, Peter’s life goes to absolute hell. He unmasked, so every villain with a grudge is coming for him, Kingpin puts out a hit, and Aunt May gets shot.

Peter, being the absolute hero of a man that he is, tries everything to save her. He begs Tony for help (doesn’t work). He tries to make a deal with Doctor Strange (doesn’t work). And just when it looks like May is going to die, the literal devil (Mephisto) shows up and is like, “Hey, Pete, what if I saved your aunt, but in exchange, I erased your marriage to MJ from existence so you two never got married and will never be happy together?”

And Peter and MJ actually say yes. BOOM. Years of character development and one of Marvel’s most iconic relationships is GONE, conveniently removing all that pesky guilt when Peter flirts with older men.

So, Aunt May lives, but now Peter and MJ were never married, and no one remembers he unmasked during Civil War. The comic book fandom hates it. The writers regret it. Everyone pretends it didn’t happen. Marvel did make a movie about this though, kinda. Also kidding. But for real, it’s one of the most infamous and universally despised retcons in Marvel history.

And on that cheerful and very nerdy note, thank you for reading.

Masterpost with all parts

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babybatscreationsv2 · 1 year ago

Text

Almost Romance

Marvel | Starker

Peter doesn't like the things Tony does to him. It doesn't make it any easier when Tony says that he loves him, but he can pretend that it does.

Rating: Explicit

For @vaguekiwi

Warnings and tags below***

Warnings/tags: Rape and rape kink, praise kink, painful sex, rough sex, possessive Tony, cum play, cum marking, breath play/passout, dark fic

Tony put all of his weight on his hands, pushing Peter down into the bed. He was tired now. The tears fell much slower. He barely even tried to move though the occasional squirm made Tony throb. He hadn't even put the whole thing in yet.

"Tony..." Peter breathed. Tony inhaled, closed his eyes, soaked up the sound of his name on those sweet lips.

"That's a good boy," Tony murmured softly. He placed a kiss on Peter's cheek. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed.

"Please stop," he tried again. The sound of it was already burned into his mind. He'd jack off to for the rest of his life.

"Stop what, Peter? Stop raping you? But it feels so good." He pushed himself in a little deeper, into the heaven that was Peter's hot silky insides. The boy whined and squirmed. He could barely move against Tony's weight.

"You're so fucking soft. And tight," he panted. "Fucking squeezing me, baby."

"Don't do this," Peter pleaded.

"Don't be scared, Peter. I'm barely even hurting you. You've had way worse."

Peter sobbed. He turned his face into the bed. Tony grabbed his hair and turned his head back, but the sharp pain had the boy fighting again, clawing at his wrist and squirming under him. So Tony bucked his hips. He forced his cock inside, all the way, his hips against that perky ass. Peter screamed, but he was distracted enough for Tony to get his arms behind his back.

He fucked him slow and deep, riding him into the bed while he cried. "Such a good boy," Tony purred again. "That's my boy."

He was less coherent as he picked up the pace. Peter laid limp and sniffling. Tony fucked him like he was trying to hurt him with his dick alone.

"I know it hurts, baby. I just can't get deep enough," he breathed against his neck. He left sloppy kisses on every bit of skin he could reach. "I need to be inside you. All the way. Need to be close to you. I love you so much, Peter."

Peter seemed to freeze beneath him. "You love me?" he said. But Tony took it as an 'I love you too'. He grabbed one of his hips and pulled the boy back against him as he pushed forward, making sure he came as deep as possible inside him.

He moaned happily and laid over his back. Tony kissed every part of him that he could reach. "You're all mine now. My cum's gonna soak up inside you. Into your blood. Become part of you. I'll be inside you forever."

Peter sobbed once again. His whole body shuddered.

Tony slept more soundly than he could ever remember with Peter wrapped up in his arms. The boy slipped away first thing in the morning, but Tony was happy. Every time he looked at him, he knew his cum was still in there. Peter couldn't meet his eye for a few days, but whatever was bothering him passed eventually. He should have been happy that Tony wanted him so badly. He was beautiful and so perfect that Tony had to resort to extremes to have him.

It was an itch that got under his skin any time Peter was too close. He found himself thinking about the way Peter struggled and cried even during what was a casual conversation. After a while he reached down to adjust himself, not noticing until then that he'd gotten hard. Just watching Peter's pretty pink lips move, hearing that voice. He was only a man.

Peter's smile faded as his eyes flicked down to Tony's crotch. His cheeks turned red.

"You alright, Pete?" Tony asked. He held in a smirk. The boy looked so vulnerable.

"I should get going. I'm not feeling great." Peter moved to leave, but Tony grabbed his arm. He froze.

"Stay." Tony kissed his neck and Peter shivered.

"Please don't..." he said.

Tony's free hand slipped up Peter's shirt, feeling his strong abdomen as he sucked a bruise into his skin. Peter whined at the pain. When he tried to move away, Tony easily pulled him back. He popped open Peter's jeans and slipped his hand inside to fondle his soft cock and that's when Peter started to panic again.

"Stop it," he shoved him away.

Tony's eyes narrowed at him. He pushed him back against the table behind him and down until he was off balance, feet off the floor, hands scrambling.

"Please please," Peter sobbed. Tears welled in those pretty eyes.

"You're mine, Peter. Don't be so dramatic. You know I have to have you."

"Just..." Peter's voice broke. He turned his face away.

"Just what, baby?"

"Just..." he took a shaky breath. "Say it again," he said, but it came out so soft that Tony wasn't sure.

"Say what, Peter?"

"Just... just tell me. If you're gonna- gonna-"

"If I'm gonna rape you."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah. Tell me what you said."

Tony smiled. "Does that make it easier? Poor Petey. You're such a sweet little thing. Do you see why I need you so bad?" He kissed a line up his throat, over his chin, until he reached his mouth. With their lips brushing together he said, "I love you."

Peter's chest heaved as he sobbed. But he didn't fight as Tony reached his hand down into his pants again. He rubbed him and stroked him while he forced kisses onto his slack lips, tongue dipping inside his mouth making him shudder and cry. Peter's cock barely stiffened, but Tony was satisfied. He stepped back from the table only to pull Peter down to the floor.

The boy started to cry again as Tony pulled his dick out of his pants. "Please don't," he sobbed.

Tony held his dick in one hand and Peter's hair in the other. He ran the tip over his soft cheeks, across his forehead, over his chin, like he was marking him.

"Open." Peter parted his lips just enough for Tony to stuff his cock inside. Teeth scraped against him and he didn't even care. He was back inside of Peter where he belonged. He stood over him panting, cock resting on the boy's tongue. He pet Peter's hair, fingers running through to gently scratch his nails over his scalp.

"That's a good boy. My good boy. I love you, Peter." He stroked his cheek as tears rolled down. Peter's jaw slacked just a little bit more, enough for him to move. Tony loved this scared, hesitant, compliance. So he went slowly, more running his cock over his tongue than fucking his mouth, but that was okay if Peter didn't want to close his lips. When the head of his cock prodded at the back of his throat it spasmed around him. Peter choked and jerked back, but Tony just pinned his head against the table to hold him in place.

It was almost better than his ass. The slow gentle violence of making the both gag until he wretched with lazy soft thrusts of his hips, until the panic found him and he fought again. Tony stopped fucking his mouth to get ahold of his wrists. He pulled Peter's arms back and pinned his wrists against the table with one hand.

"Don't make things harder, baby. I'm cumming down your throat one way or another." He grabbed his jaw as Peter clenched it shut. "Open up so I can rape your mouth. You know I can make you if I have to."

Glaring and sniffling, Peter did what he was told. Tony sighed as he stuffed his cock back inside. Peter's lips closed around him, not sucking, but still wrapping him in wet heat. He took advantage of those lips, fucking the ring of his mouth just to know every part of him belonged to Tony. Going deeper still made him gag, but there was nowhere for him to go. Tony had him pinned down well. And he loved the way he struggled when Tony forced himself into his throat. Especially as he ran out of air and his eyes began to flutter.

He pulled out to let him breathe and Peter begged him to stop with all of his precious air until he cut him off again.

"Should I cum right here down your throat? Or all over your face? It's a tough choice." Tony mused. "Of course, if it's on your face you'll just wash it off won't you? Better to leave it where it'll stay with you for a while."

Peter whined around his dick. Tony could just imagine that he was begging him to cum down his throat, to make him inside, to make sure he knows who he belongs to.

He let the boy breathe one more time, then he stuffed his cock back in his mouth and fucked his throat like he'd fucked his ass. Bruising and selfish. Peter cried, scared and hurting, and it just brought Tony to the edge that much faster. He thrashed as his lungs burned without air, but Tony held back until he stilled. Peter's eyes grew heavy, fluttering delicately at him. His mouth slacked. His struggling became weak little twitches. And that's when Tony went as deep into his throat as he could without breaking it. And he came, imagining his cum sliding down his throat, through his body, down into his stomach.

When he pulled out, Peter jolted, but he didn't start breathing again until Tony slapped him. He gasped, leaning over into Tony's hands. Tony knelt down and pulled him into his arms. He pets his hair.

“You did so good, baby. You're my good boy.”

Peter cleaned into his chest, crying against him. Tony smiled. “I love you, baby.”

#starker #marvel #prompt fill #vaguekiwi #dark fic #one I wish I could tag without it getting blocked

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og-penelope-eckart · 4 months ago

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Do you truly think that Reynold is a bad person or just stupid and dense because I think he's genuinely stupid af and that's why I genuinely love him.

Like all the times he killed Penelope were literally because Reynold is way too stupidly impulsive unlike Derrick Reynold doesn't actually take the two seconds it would take to think things through.

I don't think Reynold was as in the wrong as the fandom makes him out to be. I think Reynold had a inferiority complex that he wrongly took out on Penelope what do you think?

Not a single vadd character is a good person. They are all varying degrees of grey to dark and Reynold probably does belong to the lighter gray-scale and that's why he may seem like a good person because the contrast between him and the other character seems to be so much starker, but in reality it's because the other character is so much worse and not because Reynold is so much better. In Reynolds case it really helps that his brother is Derrick. Anyone would look like a saint next to him.

Reynold is just written with the intend to make him seem sympathic to the readers. That he gifts Penelope bunnies or defends her now in front of others doesn't undo the damage he caused. Penelope spend six years in hell and he was the catalyst for it. Reynold has to make sacrifices and suffer to atone for what he has done wrong, but giving someone gifts when you are rich can hardly be called a sacrifice. He asked the Duke to punish him and is now sweating in the training yard. It's a start, I guess. I just wish he was man's enough to assemble the staff at the same place where he had accused Penelope wrongly and confessed the truth in front of the entire duchy, asking Penelope for an appropiate punishment and not his father who shared his blame. The people are still ignorant about the true reasons why Penelope acted out when she was little. Telling only the duke and punishing himself in private doesn't set things right for Penelope, it only eases his own conscience. If Penelope had never found out, it literally would have changed nothing, because Reynold did not confess to her and was instead directing the words he should have said to her directly towards their father.

I agree that he was probably clueless about most of the things happening inside the Eckart duchy, that's why I find the reveal that he's been the real culprit of the stolen necklace incident so ooc. Unlike Derrick, Reynold has always been straight-forward and honest in his hatred. Rather than Reynold being dumb, I think he's impulsive, acting without thinking, controlled by whichever emotion that is the strongest is currently possessing his body, and then when the fight is over and the damage is done, he refuses to think deeper to avoid confronting the possibility that he had been in the wrong. I think that Reynold has a hard time regulating his emotions. He believes what is most comfortable to him and aligns with his family code. If Derrick is the mind of the Eckart duchy, then Reynold is the heart. Reynold leaves the thinking to others, he trusts too much. He's naive and hasn't been taught to look beyond the surface. Reynold never had to adjust to the world while growing up, as the child of nobles the world bended to him and he was expecting his needs to be tended to. The Eckart staff accommodated to him. Like many noble children he's never faced hardships before and can't even begin to imagine how life as a war orphan in the slums of Eorka must have been like, which caused him to judge Penelope from an ivory tower.

But all this should not be an exuse for his horrible actions. His motivations or reasons are irrelevant. If a man has an inferiority complex towards a woman (I don't think it's an inferiority complex tbh) and behaves aggressive towards her until he kills her by accident, then he is still a criminal and should be judged as such. That he has the impulse control of a child is not a very good defense. Reynold didn't intend to kill her but he was going to push her and hurt her. And it did result in manslaughter. In. Multiple. Timelines. The circumstances surrounding her death in the bad endings caused by Reynold, indicate that Reynold doesn't shy away from physical violence towards a girl. It is very likely he did hurt Penelope frequently. Has it been revealed yet what caused Penelope to break her bones when she was little? Because I don't buy it that she fell when climbing. I could imagine that Reynold would lash out at her and then regret it when he sees what he has done (a bleeding nose, a split lip, a contusion) and give her a dessert and beg her not to tell father and Penelope being so hungry from being starved by the maids she agrees to the deal. He was a bully. He was a spoiled rich brat who had the means availible to him to learn and change, but didn't bother.

Reynold is a bad person, but a bad person can be a sympathic person. As a shitty elder brother he feels real. I don't believe the Eckarts will ever change their way of thinking. They'll remain bad people but they will treat Penelope better and that's why people are willing to overlook their flaws. You can like him, there's no shame in liking a bad person, especially in a work filled with characters that are doing morally reprehensible things. I just don't think what he did should be excused. The Eckarts made a fortune from the conquest of foreign countries and the exploitation of slaves in the mining business. The fact that Reynold belongs to this family and benefits from the oppression of Delmans makes him complicit in the Empire's war crimes and should be enough evidence that he is a bad person. It's a fallacy of thinking to determine a characters moral alignment based on the way they treat the heroine. Take a look at how they treat other characters from low stations for example. If the Eckarts insult and abuse Iklies, then this is a reflectation for how they would treat any other slave. They didn't give a shit about the maid killed in her prison cell either. They were just upset that it would make the investigation more difficult. Many of the knights training in the Eckart duchy are rotten people. And Reynold hangs around the knights, right? The kind of people you choose to surround yourself are often a mirror of your own personality.

#answered asks #vadd #reynold eckart #villains are destined to die #death is the only ending for a villainess #still haven't catched up with the manhwa

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welurklate · 1 year ago

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In defence of Ron Weasley - or: why Weasley is our King!

I have noticed that in the last decade so-called Ron-bashing has almost become a sport in the Harry Potter fandom, or at least in certain corners of the fandom. And that makes me quite sad, because in my eyes it is unjustified and a product of circumstances that have nothing to do with the canon character. People depict Ron as a laughing stock, a truly incompetent wizard who is nothing but jealous and petty. Even in fanfics where Ron is an adult he rarely outgrows his teenage character. I believe this has to do with a few thing I will get into here.

First and foremost, we have to take a stance and decide if we believe that redemption is possible or not. If you think that once a fruit shows signs of rot it is better to throw out than to salvage it, stop reading here. If you think there are parts that can be saved and possibly restored, you are probably a Draco fan as well 😉 and you're welcome to read on.

So first of all, everything we see the characters do in the books they do as children and teenagers. Adolesence is a time of great changes, physically and psychologically. The prefrontal lobe of our brain still develops until our mid-twenties. It is a time to experiment and to make decisions, even if they are objectively the wrong ones, and to learn from that and to evolve into well-adjusted, open-minded and self-reflecting adults. So it isn’t even necessary to ‘redeem’ oneself for what you did growing up, it is just imperative to evolve. I have been working with teenagers my whole professional life and I am always amazed by what happens between the ages of 10 and 20/25.

So Ron is a child in the first books and an adolescent in the final parts and we actually see him grow and evolve. Not everyone is as perfect as Hermione and we sometimes forget that people can be flawed in small ways (not only in big ways such as ‘oops, I’ve taken the dark mark and commit war crimes’). I think people tend to hate on Ron because of this. He is so normal in his jealousy and his envy. We see a lot of ourselves in him and that is uncomfortable. We turn to fiction to experience the extraordinary in both good and bad, but we rarely want to see our very common shortcomings reflected in the characters. Because then we could just read self-help books and do something about it. But we don’t. We just want to escape reality and enter into worlds where everything is starker in contrast, emotions are deeper and stakes are higher.

And Ron is not such a character. He is a mild grey. He is not the hero, but he is also not the villain. Ambiguity and nuance have very little place in fantasy. But I think that is exactly what makes Ron such a great character and the books (despite JKR’s bigotism) so fascinating.

So what I see people do in fanfiction is to push his character to the extremes – mostly make him an antagonist. Interestingly, this usually occurs in in Dramione or Harmony fics. In Drarry fics or others where Hermione and Ron stay together, he usually gets to grow up into a reasonable and well-adjusted adult. And I get it. I love Hermione and I get what she sees in Ron (stability, a deep understanding, loyalty, common values, a wise mind that complements her academic one etc.). But in stories where we pair Hermione with other people we need to get Ron out of the way. Because we cannot, for the love of Merlin, make Hermione be the problematic one in the relationship (she is the queen of the books - she cannot be touched). So of course we have to make sure that Ron is the reason why their relationship fails. And to make their breakup believable, we antagonize Ron so that there is no chance for them to get back together. From a storytelling viewpoint this makes absolute sense. But it does not do Ron’s character justice. Canon Ron is a truly amazing character. The movies did him dirty and depicted him as the slightly stupid one with the punch lines and this has often clouded our image of him. Book Ron holds much more power in the trio's friendship. He is the one who introduces Hermione and Harry to all things in the Wizarding World. He is smart – even though he is not as zealous as Hermione, he is a good student and a brilliant wizard’s chess player. He is genuine, kind and loyal. I won’t reiterate all the smart things people have said about his character before. If you are interested you can check some good arguments here:

here, here or here

Everything he is and everything he goes through makes him a hero in his own way. He is the character with the biggest development and the biggest potential. He overcomes his own shortcomings again and again to stay by Harry's side. Especially in the last books he struggles, makes decisions he deeply regrets and faces his insecurities.

I could go on and on about this… but leave it at this for now. I hope this makes you see Ron in a better light! Fight me in the comments or sing along my praise of Ron!

tl;dr: Ron is a truly interesting character but the movies and fanon have skewed his image in a negative way.

#weasley is our king #ron weasley #ronald bilius weasley #in defense of ron #in defense of ron weasley #harry potter movies #harry potter fanon #dramione #harry potter fandom #canon ron #moodboard #ron weasley moodboard #redemption #say no to ron bashing

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voxofthevoid · 1 year ago

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konnichiwa, vox-sama ✌️

it seems like everyone is having fun since wednesday, huh?

wanna join this club too if it's possible, pleasepleaseplease

what would i ask of you? jeez, tough choice + others' preferences are partly mine

- voyeurism

- hickeys/marks on skin

- causing and soothing the pain

- something sweet

thank you and your inner source of ideas 🩵

Y'know, I was thinking yesterday that you seemed to have missed this week's shenanigans. Good to see you!

I've picked snippets of ~200 words from four different fics.

There's voyeurism, joint shower, face slapping, and a marriage proposal, in that order. The last one is stealth angst because it's from the Amnesia Fic.

Voyeurism, ft. itagofushi from i can offer you a black-lit paradise

At least Itadori’s clearly not complaining. His hands are almost reverent as they slide down Gojou’s chest, palming the skin he fought so hard to bare. And there’s that same, damning familiarity drenching every touch. Fingers splaying wide, trying and failing to grasp the entire expanse of Gojou’s chest. Hands encircling the thick column of Gojou’s throat, a gesture that should by all rights be threatening somehow turned into hungry affection. Megumi doesn’t understand how or why Itadori touches Gojou like that, but he knows he doesn’t want to either.

He’s not surprised when he lifts his gaze and runs into nuclear blue.

“Don’t worry, Megumi,” Gojou murmurs, his voice too gentle to be trusted. “I’m sure you’ll pack on some meat there soon—ow! Yuuji.”

Megumi ignores the whine and the pout, staring at Itadori’s fingers clamped on Gojou’s nipples. They’re pink. He remembers that. Right now, they’re not even visible, swallowed by Itadori’s crushing grip.

He tugs, hard and mean.

Gojou just moans.

“Honestly,” Itadori sighs, pulling on the nipples again. “I don’t get why you’re being such an ass to Fushiguro.”

“He, uh, he likes it,” Gojou says absently, his mind clearly lodged in the flesh Itadori is bullying.

Hickeys/marks on skin, ft. goyuu from (this is also part of the story) how the story changes

Yuuji lets out a measured breath and goes to retrieve the soap. When he turns around, the sight of Satoru, every inch of his naked skin dripping wet, hits him like a freight train, and Yuuji doesn’t stop or even falter, but his face or body must do something because Satoru’s expression morphs into smug satisfaction. He leans against the tiled wall, head tilted back and chest thrust out to let the shower spray hit his chest and sluice down in gentler streams.

His pale skin almost glows under the bright bathroom lights, but it’s the reds and pinks littering his torso that take Yuuji’s breath away. All the bleeding stopped long ago, but the bite marks and bruises seem starker. It looks different like this—more real, more violent. Maybe because of the wetness or maybe because Satoru’s upright. Yuuji’s mouth grows hot, his teeth aching with want and his tongue thrumming with memory.

His eyes trail down, taking in the sculpted stomach marred by teeth and suction, the weirdly cute belly button, and the snowy trail of short hairs before landing and snagging on the metalwork between the legs.

Causing and soothing pain, ft. goyuu from (the euphoric taste of your tears) swallow it, darling

“It’s none of your business who I fuck.”

“You made it my business,” Yuuji tells him; he doesn’t say, You made yourself mine.

Satoru shudders like he heard it anyway, eyes going dark and hot.

But this boy has never wanted with grace.

“You just wanted an excuse to be a fucking pervert—”

Yuuji slaps him.

Satoru looks delicate, his features fine and fey, but he isn’t, not even a little, and Yuuji has always treated him like that. His hand impacts flesh hard enough to make his own palm sting, and Satoru’s head snaps to the side with a sound that reverberates in the air between them.

He doesn’t make a single sound. Yuuji’s palm print grows bright on his cheek.

Yuuji dips his head, pressing his cheek to Satoru’s.

It’s hot.

“Don’t provoke me,” Yuuji says softly. “I’m already giving you what you want. Don’t be greedy.”

Satoru says nothing, makes no sound, and Yuuji stays there, rubbing his cheek gently against Satoru’s burning one until his own perpetually cool skin leeches off some of that warmth. He turns his head then, kissing Satoru where he hurt him, and that does earn him a noise—a low, gutted thing.

“Understand, Satoru-kun?”

Something sweet, ft. goyuu from the ghost in me was true (but you were haunted too)

"I was only thinking—can’t have some nubile young thing snatch you away from under my nose. Gotta put a ring on it before you realize you’re with an old pervert.”

Yuuji makes another noise, but he’s laughing too, a throaty noise that’s more incredulous than amused. “Nobody’s snatching me away. And you’re barely over thirty, that’s not old. Japan doesn’t even recognize same-sex marriage.”

“Who cares?” Satoru sits up, the covers spilling down to pool in his lap. The room is dark, but the Six Eyes see every shadow in high definition until Satoru closes his eyes again, focusing only on the sound of Yuuji’s breathing. “Only you and I need to recognize it. A ceremony would be fun, hm? We can have another one when you’re back here, with everyone there.”

Yuuji swallows audibly. “Are you really serious?”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” Yuuji laughs again, that same strangled sound from before. “You’re unreal sometimes.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Yuuji’s dead silent for long enough that Satoru’s smile dies on his lips, slinking cold down his spine.

Yuuji says, “You didn’t actually ask a question.”

Ah, Satoru thinks, forcing down a shiver. You learned the worst things from me.

“Marry me, Yuuji.”

“Yes.” It’s instant, burning. “Of course I’ll marry you. Satoru, it’s you.”

#jjk snippets #goyuu #itagofushi #kubodoesthings #divider credit: saradika-graphics #fic excerpt game #fic: the euphoric taste #fic: the ghost in me was true #fic: a blacklit paradise #fic: how the story changes

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daydreaming-in-letters · 2 years ago

Text

Earth & Fire

Chapter III - A guest or a queen

07/22/2023

Pairing: Hades (Hozier) x Anthea (OFC)

Word Count: 5,553

Warnings: language

Summary: Anthea is settling in in the Underworld, and while Hades is trying his best to make her stay as pleasant as possible, there are others who make the situation a lot more difficult than it already is.

A/N: Are you ready to meet some new characters? Enjoy!

Earth & Fire - Masterpost

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Stones and rocks and stones and more rocks. This place seemed to consist of nothing else. Apart from darkness and despair, and yet another river they had crossed on their way. Flames, blue as the one inside Charon’s lantern, rose from it to lick at the air and devour everyone who was foolish enough to get too close.

The god in front of her hadn’t cared to tell her its name. In fact, he hadn’t uttered a single word since their departure from the riverbank. Not even when, at last, a massive black building had come into view. His palace, Anthea guessed, seeing that most of the other inhabitants of the Underworld probably had no need for a dwelling as big as this. Still, it wasn’t as huge as she had expected it to be. It was almost modest considering that he was one of the big three, and the ruler of this whole realm. Even on the inside it lacked the pompous furnishings and decorations Anthea had thought to find. There were mortal kings’ palaces who were more sumptuous than his. Not that Anthea had seen any, but her father had told her about a few and at least in her imagination they were more worthy of a god than this building ever could be.

Especially since instead of using his name, many mortals used to call him Plouton, the wealthy one. As the ruler of the Underworld, all of the earth’s treasures that hid underground belonged to him. Naturally, she had assumed to find precious metals like gold or silver and the finest jewels, and not the dark obsidian he had chosen for the floors and walls, and occasionally even for the ceilings.

Above their heads, more blue flames seemed to float in the air, their cold light reflecting from the polished stone to lead their way down the indistinguishable corridors. They seemed to have walked forever, every step luring her deeper into his labyrinth of darkness, and as they finally stopped in front of a large two-winged door, Anthea was sure that, should she ever want to escape this place, it would be impossible to find her way out of it.

“These are your rooms,” he plainly stated as he pushed the door open and stepped aside to make room for her.

She didn’t know exactly what she had expected, probably a plain room, nothing better than a prison cell. It would have suited her under the circumstances of her stay here, but what her eyes found on the other side of the door was as far from a prison cell as one could possibly imagine.

Anthea was greeted by rich hues of pink and purple. The contrast to the cool blue that the rest of this realm seemed to be drenched in couldn’t be any starker. The light radiated off a myriad of crystals that were placed in several alcoves all around the room. She had never seen anything as splendid as this before.

“This is the ante-chamber.” Another plain statement, as if the magic of the room didn’t affect him at all. “And through there you will find the bedchamber and a bath.” He pointed to another door at the far end of the room. “I assume you must be exhausted from your journey.”

Anthea didn’t reply at first, too stunned by the splendour in front of her, when her senses suddenly caught a motion and she turned to find that he was about to leave.

“Wait!” she almost shouted at him in the panic that had befallen her and was quick to add a much softer, “Please.”

It wouldn’t have been necessary, she realised, as he had followed her request anyway and was already turning to face her again. As much as one could call it that with his hood still veiling his countenance.

“Please, my lord, will you let me see your face?”

There was a reluctance in his movement, but once again he did as she had asked of him. Slender fingers clutched the black fabric of his hood and slowly pushed it back until she could see him clearly. He was beautiful, not in the least what she had anticipated, but beautiful none the less. Wild curls, falling all the way down to his shoulders, framed his long face. Its features were well sculpted with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Half of the milky skin of his face was covered by a beard, a little lighter in colour as the hair on his head, with a touch of red as far as she could tell in this light.

It was hard to imagine that this god was in any way related to Zeus, let alone that he was his brother. They seemed to be polar opposites, especially when it came to their eyes, she thought, as his gaze met hers. They were kind eyes, compassionate, reminding her so much of her father’s eyes, even though Hephaestus’ eyes were blue and not green as the pair that was observing her carefully right now.

“How…” There had been a question forming in the back of her mind, but she needed to collect her thoughts for a moment before the words finally aligned in her head. “How can you be so sure Zeus won’t find me here?”

“Because he never sets foot into the Underworld.”

“What makes you think he won’t consider it now?”

Her question had brought the tiniest hint of a smile to his lips.

“He doesn’t dare. My brothers and I draw a huge amount of our power from our realms, which in turn makes each of us more powerful than the other in our own territories.”

“Is that why you never go to Olympus?” Her father had told her that he wasn’t the only one who kept avoiding that place. Apparently, a few other gods also chose to stay away from Olympus. Hades’ name had been among those Hephaestus had listed.

“No, I choose not to go there because I don’t give much about gossip and schemes.”

His answer made her smile. “Neither do I.” But then she became serious again. “Still, you’re his brother. Poseidon’s brother as well, and everyone knows he is no different when it comes to his…appetite. How can I be sure you are not like them?”

“You can’t. And you are wise not to trust me or anyone on that matter.” He paused for a moment, leaving her to simmer in the unease his words had caused. “I take it you haven’t seen much of the world outside your home. Being careful as you get to know more of it is a wise way to start. Still I fear, my word is all I can offer. I gave it to your father and I will give it you. Choose for yourself whether that will be enough.”

Patiently he waited, giving her time to weigh his offer, a task that was harder than it seemed. How could she trust someone she had only met today? And a god at that. For all she knew there wasn’t a single god who didn’t lie or cheat to get what they wanted. And if anything, his words had only confirmed that opinion. Still, as she looked into his eyes now, she thought that for a second she might have glimpsed something deep within, something that he had kept well hidden until now. And that was all she needed.

“I will take it.”

He nodded silently before he turned to leave again. He hesitated for a moment, as if he expected her to ask another question, but when she didn’t, he began walking towards the door.

“Rest now. I will send someone to show you around later.”

Hades kept word. However, in the everlasting gloom of the Underworld, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he had left her. Minutes, hours, days, it all felt the same to Anthea. All she knew was that she did not feel rested at all when the soft knock on her door woke her. It seemed to come from far away, muffled by two sets of thick doors, and just as she thought she had only imagined it, it came again, a little more determined this time.

Anthea had already gotten up and crossed half of the distance when the knocking sounded again.

“My lady?” a voice asked, velvety, yet unable to veil the thinning patience that lay underneath, and as Anthea pulled the dark wood aside, she was greeted by an already scowling beauty, her foot tapping the ground restlessly.

Her black hair shimmered in the blue light as she turned her head to look at Anthea, a defying stare, two catlike orbs of greenish blue eyeing the new arrival to the Underworld suspiciously.

“Lady Anthea, I assume.” And when Anthea was too stunned by the hostile glare the other woman still sent her, the raven-haired vision rolled her stunning eyes and pressed past her. “I am Minthe, daughter of the river-god Cocytus. My king has asked me to show you around the palace.”

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Minthe.” It wasn’t a delight really, but her father had taught her better than to be unkind to strangers who offered their help.

Minthe clearly hadn’t been as fortunate, as she just huffed, extending her arms towards Anthea, who just now realised that she was carrying something. “He also asked me to bring you this, in case you wanted to change into some clean clothes.”

Minthe’s gaze burned as she looked her up and down, signalling that even though Hades had been polite enough to leave the decision to Anthea, it was probably necessary to change after her arduous journey.

“Thank you. How very thoughtful and kind of Lord Hades.”

Anthea had already taken the peplos from Minthe and hurried back into the bedroom to put it on, when a reply came through the doors left ajar.

“I wouldn’t think too much of it. It is a customary token of hospitality, not one of sympathy.”

“Either way,” Anthea stepped into the ante-chamber again, a purple peplos, richly embroidered with golden flowers at the seams, enveloping her body, “it is the most beautiful piece of clothing I’ve ever had the pleasure of wearing.”

“Is that so? I thought I heard someone say you were the daughter of a god…”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Well, clearly he doesn’t care about you much, or he would have endowed you with some finer clothes than the colourless rag you arrived in,” Minthe sneered, obviously very pleased with herself.

“Your misjudgement is forgivable, as you obviously don’t know my father. Because if you did, you would know that he cares more about a person’s character than their looks. The eyes can easily be deceived by beauty, but the heart will always reveal a person’s true colours.”

The naiad huffed again, “A shame purple doesn’t seem to match your true colours then.”

It was also a shame her father clearly hadn’t cared more about his daughter, teaching her that beauty was worth more than manners, probably even making her believe that it was the whole point of her, the only purpose for which she was born to attract an honourable suitor. But Anthea didn’t say that. After all, what good was to come of it?

“How about we start that tour of the palace you mentioned then? That way the look of me in this mismatched peplos won’t trouble you longer than necessary.”

Minthe’s fiery red lips twitched peculiarly, to force a grin it seemed, although it could just as easily be mistaken for a baring of teeth.

“Very well then. This way.”

The palace was much bigger than Anthea had anticipated at her arrival. Room after room, spreading across several floors, she was shown until her feet started to ache again and her head began to spin. She would need days, probably even weeks to find her way around without getting lost. So far, all she could recall was the route to her rooms and to the library. She had paid special attention here, eager to revisit the ridiculously extensive collection of books as soon as possible.

Minthe had also shown her the throne room with its impressive dais. It wasn’t used much, she had explained, as against common believe, the ruler of the Underworld didn’t preside over the judgement of every single soul that arrived in his realm. His attendance was reserved for special cases, mostly kings or those who had angered the gods and were facing an eternity in Tartarus. The fate of all other souls lay in the hands of the three judges, Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus.

They had also come past more guest rooms, the kitchen and servant quarters, which were astonishingly small, she had noted. The only thing they hadn’t come across yet, were Lord Hades private rooms and when Anthea dared ask about them, Minthe’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Did he not tell you?”

He obviously had not. Why else would she ask?

“They are right across the floor from yours.”

That was odd. Why would there be guest rooms in such close proximity to his private quarters?

“Oh, since we are already talking about that topic…Your rooms and his happen to share a balcony. An unfortunate detail, for you, as it means you won’t be able to use it. It would be most inappropriate to disturb the king’s rare moments of privacy, would it not?”

“It certainly would.”

Inappropriate and terribly awkward. She silently vowed not to come anywhere near that balcony for the entirety of her stay.

“I am glad we are in agreement about that.” Minthe smiled sweetly, a strange look after the hostility she had radiated from the moment of their first encounter, but it died away as soon as it had come. “Now, there is one more thing my king asked me to tell you.” One she evidently did not like too much. “You are to dine with him tonight. He will be with you shortly.”

And without a warning the nymph pushed open the door she had stopped at and shoved Anthea in. Protest was forming on her lips, but before it had the chance to be uttered, the door fell closed behind her again and she was alone.

The room was dark, like everything else in this realm, she thought, and sparsely furnished. A huge dining table with several chairs at its centre, there was only a fireplace that immediately drew Anthea’s attention. It wasn’t the mere fact that the room had a fireplace, almost every room they had been to during their tour had, but its flame that was different.

Red and yellow flames were licking silently at the logs, real logs, not their stony substitutes she had seen all day. She had never thought a fire could spark such a rush of joy, not even in the colder winter months on Lemnos had she ever felt her stomach twirl in delight upon the sight of burning wood, but now she had to hold back a squeal as she knelt down in front of the fireplace, her hands reaching out to get as close as possible to the familiar heat.

“Are you well?”

He sounded bewildered, maybe even a little concerned, but as she looked up to find him right next to her, there was also the tiniest hint of amusement on his face.

“Yes, my lord,” she answered mechanically, her cheeks burning more fervently than the fire could have ever made them. Hastily she stood, dusting off her clothes—the new clothes he had given her—before she added, “Please excuse my unseemly behaviour. I did not hear you enter the room.”

“Nothing unseemly about enjoying a fire.”

The unexpected reply made her face him again, and what she found when she really took him in for the first time since he had appeared out of nowhere beside her, was just as unexpected. He looked even taller without his cloak, and, as she had already anticipated, much leaner. The warm light of the fire suited him however, compensating the paleness of his skin and giving it a soft golden glow. He would probably look like that if he spent more time above ground, she caught herself musing for a second, but of course he couldn’t. At least not long enough for a tan to take hold. He was wearing a black chiton, falling all the way down to his ankles. It only revealed his neck and arms, void of bulging biceps or a defined chest that spoke of his divine nature. His appearance made it easy to forget that he wasn’t a mortal like herself and somehow she took comfort in that.

Wordlessly he moved, reaching for the backrest of the chair and pulling it out for her. Anthea sat down, just as wordlessly, and long after he had taken a seat at the end of the table to her left, there was still silence between them.

“I hope you find the peplos to your liking,” he finally enquired.

“Yes, thank you, my lord. It is very beautiful.”

“I wasn’t sure about the embroidery or whether the colour was to your taste.”

She averted her gaze, fingers caressing the impossibly soft fabric that covered her thighs. “As I said, it is beautiful, my lord. I’m just not used to such extravagant clothing.”

“I thought as much. Your father also never cared for fashion.”

A soft smile spread on her lips as she thought of Hephaestus and his functional clothing. “No, indeed. He still doesn’t.”

But then her heart sank again. Her father. The wound still fresh, it ripped even deeper at the thought of him so far away from her. She wouldn’t be able to see him for a very long time. And under the almost unbearable weight of this truth, silence fell over the room again.

It was only stirred by the clatter of plates being brought in by two servants. They were loaded with food, more than the two of them would ever be able to eat in one meal. While they retreated without a sound, Hades had grabbed the bulbous jug they had placed on the table first and filled the chalice next to her plate with wine. He then repeated the same with his own chalice before he set the jug down.

She knew it was her turn now. As the laws of hospitality demanded, the guest always was to choose their food first. And it looked delicious, calling to her empty stomach until it was almost painful to resist.

There were different kinds of meat, the juicy lamb chops with mint smelling especially mouthwatering. Anthea could also see olives and nuts, right next to her a whole plate of creamy goat cheese and fresh figs. Beside a cruet of olive oil, the servants had placed a basket with bread, fresh out of the oven, she guessed, its insides probably still warm. For dessert they had served more fruit, pomegranate, her favourite, right under her nose. The ruby flesh that housed its seeds almost seemed to burst with juice.

“Is the food not to your liking?” His irritated tone left her in no doubt that his patience was slowly wearing thin.

“That’s not…” Before she could even finish that sentence, a loud growl from her stomach rendered any further word useless.

Now more than ever, she could feel his gaze on her, burning the guilt she felt into her skin. From the corner of her eye she saw that he was swivelling his chalice in his hand and took it as a sign of his waning composure. Soon he would set the wine down and lash out at her for the grave insult against his hospitality. But he did nothing of the sort, and when he finally spoke again his voice was soft and understanding.

“You need to eat, even though the grief your separation from your father causes you might have silenced your hunger.”

If only he knew how wrong he was. It wasn’t grief at all that made her hold back. It was her lack of trust in him. It had been Hades himself who had told her mere hours ago that she was wise not to place her confidence in him and although her father trusted him enough to leave her in Hades’ care, Anthea knew too little about him to tell whether he meant well or, like all the other gods, had merely his own interests in mind.

“Believe me, my hunger is far from silenced, my lord.”

“What keeps you from eating then?”

She hesitated again. The reason sounded foolish enough in her head already.

“There is this rumour…”

“And what is it you have heard about the food in this realm that leads you to consider starving yourself instead of touching it?”

“They say whoever swallows even a single bite of food in the Underworld is doomed to stay here forever.”

Once again, the God of the Underworld surprised her with his reaction as he began to laugh so heartily he had to set his chalice down to keep the wine from spilling all over the table.

“And pray tell, what good would that do? Sooner or later, every single soul is bound to end up here anyway. So why punish myself with keeping more nagging and moaning creatures around me than I already have to host?”

Anthea could feel her cheeks heat up again, scorching from humiliation—caused by her own foolishness and even more so by him calling her out for it. His words stung more than they should, especially the last part. Biting her tongue, she could feel her teeth drawing blood as she forced the words back down that more than anything she wanted to shout at him right now. Did he honestly think she enjoyed being exiled, trapped here without a single beam of sunlight, without her father, the only family she had ever known? Instead she was stuck here with him, a man as confusing as there had ever been one, who played the perfect host one moment just to make her even more miserable than she already was in the next.

Anthea kept her eyes lowered. She knew if they would find his, he would see the anger rage inside them like a storm, and she was painfully aware which consequences it could have to defy a god.

“Forgive me, my lord, for being the burden I so clearly am to you.”

His laugh died away immediately to make room for a silence that weighed heavier than any silence that had existed between them before. Anthea could feel her skin prickle from the charged air in the room, making her knead the purple fabric of her peplos fervently while she awaited the thunderstorm to unleash.

“No, forgive me,” he almost whispered. “That’s not what I meant to say at all.”

In an instant her head shot up, her eyes desperately searching for his, and when they finally met, she found nothing but truth there.

“Eat, my lady, I promise it won’t bind you to this realm or harm you in any other way.”

Anthea had excused herself and gone to bed a long while ago. Shortly after, Minthe’s head had appeared in the doorway, but he had shooed her away. He didn’t want any company tonight, especially not from her. It was only him now, and Cerberus. The huge dog lay to his feet by the fire, two of its three heads fighting for a leftover bone from dinner while the third had already given up and was slowly drifting into sleep, lulled by the warmth of the flames.

He had almost forgotten how pretty they were, dancing brightly as they feasted on the remaining wood. Soon the fire would die, like everything eventually did, reduced to nothing but ash. The eternal circle of life, his daily business.

He should stick with that. Death, souls, the Underworld—those were the things he understood and knew how to handle. Unlike his guest, he thought. It had always been like that, even before he had accepted his fate and come down here. The isolation had only amplified his reticence.

On top of that, he had never been good at talking to people, especially women. Minthe seemed to be the only exception. She had been radiating towards him ever since they had met. Why, he didn’t know. And much less did he want her to. It had only been one time, one moment of utter loneliness that had overwhelmed him in the early days after being assigned to the Underworld. Since then, all he had done was push her away, and still she refused to take no for an answer, sticking to him like a leech, always waiting for him to change his mind.

That would never happen though because as ridiculous as it sounded coming from the God of the Underworld, if ever he would settle, it would be for love, not to feel less alone. But who would willingly choose a life with him if it entailed an eternity here?

Anthea surely wouldn’t. Not that he wanted her to, gods no. That poor girl had enough problems already. Still she was the perfect example of the reasons people had to come here at all: to safe their own lives or to beg for someone else’s. It was always the same. No sane creature would ever journey into this realm if they weren’t on the brink of despair. There usually wasn’t much he could do for them though. The Underworld had strict rules even he had to obey, and so he sent away most of the beggars without even listening to their pleas.

Anthea was the rare exception. And he might have driven her away like all the others if it hadn’t been for the involvement of his brother. For the longest time, Hades had been growing tired of his antics, always having to deal with its consequences and cleaning up after him. There were too many examples of havoc his relentless and utterly selfish rule had wreaked, too many souls that roamed the fields of Asphodel because Zeus had decided they were disposable. He wouldn’t allow him to destroy yet another life. Not this time. Not hers.

“Dreaming about her already, uncle?” Hades jolted in his seat. “Isn’t that a bit premature, though? I hear she has only arrived today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Not everyone is constantly thinking of any woman as their possible next conquest.”

He had no desire to look at his nephew, knowing full well that there was a sly grin playing on his lips, very pleased with his prickish teasing.

“Maybe not everyone is. But you certainly didn’t waste any time. Giving her the queen’s chambers…”

Hades couldn’t deny that he had indeed given her the rooms he had once built himself for the queen of this realm. A long time ago, when he had been young and foolish enough to let himself believe anyone would ever share this burden with him.

“She’s my guest, Hermes.”

“Exactly. So why not put her in one of the guest rooms?”

Hades sighed, “They are not—”

“What? Fitting?”

“No. Don’t twist my words.” Hades felt the need to get up and walk away from his insolent nephew. One arm leaned against the fireplace, he tried to let its warmth soothe him. It didn’t work. “It’s just, they are pretty and they have never been used. Probably never will. So why let them go to waste?”

Behind his back he could hear Hermes help himself to some wine.

“You like her.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Judging by the sound, he gulped down the contents of his chalice in one swig, probably eager to hit him with the next inappropriate assumption.

“But you do. And who could blame you? I mean, it’s not as if the ladies are waiting in line for you, eh? After all, she’s the first woman with a pulse to set foot into your realm since…since you took over the reigns here, I guess. And as if that wasn’t enough for you to get excited about already, she isn’t a sight for sore eyes either. That long, golden hair, like liquid rays of sunshine. And paired with those dark brown eyes…mh. They hold fire, Hades. Fire! I bet she’s an even bigger sensation between the sheets than that forest nymph I fucked during Apollo’s last orgy on Olympus. Did you even look at her properly? I mean, really look at her and those lush curves? A fertility goddess has got nothing on that mortal temptation.”

“Enough!” Hades had been feeling his hand clenching into a fist ever since the impertinent little fuck had opened his mouth again, but it was only now that it flew against the wall to silence him. “Will you listen to yourself, Hermes! No wonder that poor woman fled the mortal realm with creatures like you lurking around.”

That seemed to have done the trick. With the mischief finally wiped from his face, Hermes swallowed visibly upon the sudden outbreak, brushing one of his unruly dark curls behind his ear. When Hades spoke again, his voice was much softer.

“Anthea has been through so much, thanks to your insatiable father. She was forced to leave her home and everything she knows behind. So, to come back to your point, if there were any chambers in this realm fit to soothe her sorrow even the tiniest bit, I would give them to her. Until then, the queen’s chambers will have to do.”

“Hm,” Hermes shrugged, almost back to his old sassy self again, “it’s your palace, Hades. You can do whatever pleases you.” And then he went on in a whisper, “Even keep telling yourself that you’re not into her.”

“You’re right, Hermes. I am the ruler of this place, and as such it would very much please me if you left. But there are two matters that need to be settled first.”

“One?” Hermes asked nonchalantly while shoving an olive into his mouth.

“Did you only come here to vex me or does your visit have an actual purpose?”

“Ah, you know me too well, uncle. Actually, I was escorting a few souls to the river Styx when I ran into your little…fling.”

Honest bewilderment flitted over Hades face. “Fling?”

“Minthe.”

He couldn’t suppress the heavy roll of his eyes upon Hermes’ stupid allusion.

“Hermes, how often do I have to tell you? She is not my fling. In fact, she is not my anything.”

“Suit yourself. Anyway, she told me about the newest addition to your household. And very eagerly so. Probably needed to get it off her chest, the jealous little thing. And you know what they say: where there is smoke… So I needed to see for myself whether the rumours are true und the King of the Dead has finally chosen his bride.”

Insufferable. “As I already told you, I have not. And just to make it clear once again: I have no intention of marrying Anthea.”

“Duly noted.”

“Which leads me to the second point.”

Hermes’ eyebrows shot up. “Go on.”

“I need you to swear an unbreakable oath that you won’t mention her stay here to any soul, living or dead.”

The messenger of the gods was silent for a while, merely for the dramatic effect, Hades assumed. And to let his uncle simmer a bit.

“And what if I don’t?”

Now it was Hades turn to sneer. “If you don’t,” he stated while he took a step towards him, his voice perfectly measured, “you will not leave this realm until it is safe for her to do the same.”

“You can’t hold me hostage here. You wouldn’t dare.”

There was a sizzle in the air as Hades’ magic came to life. In an instant, Cerberus stood by his side, all three heads baring their teeth and growling at the younger god who found himself backed up against the table.

“I can. And I will.”

Hermes’ eyes went wide, his hands shooting up to appease the other god.

“All right, all right. I was just joking. I will swear that bloody oath if it means so much to you.”

As quickly as it had flared up, Hades’ magic died away. For a second, Cerberus looked up at him in confusion before he finally decided his assistance was no longer needed and returned to his cozy spot by the fireplace.

Hades couldn’t wait to do the same, but first he would ensure Anthea’s safety here. He knew he couldn’t keep his brother from finding out about her whereabouts forever, but at least he could buy Hephaestus and her a little more time. Time they would need to figure out what to do next. And with the biggest tattler out of the way, they would have a few more days, maybe even weeks to do so.

In the morning, he would have to speak to Minthe as well. If it was true and she had told Hermes about Anthea, she would have to suffer the consequences of her actions.

Chapter 4

***

taglist:

@ashesofblackroses 🖤

#hades!hozier x ofc #hades!hozier #hozier #hozier fanfiction #greek mythology au #earth and fire

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anhed-nia · 8 months ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/27/2024: SCARAB

I always say that an interestingly bad movie is far better than a conventionally good movie, and SCARAB is here to prove that I'm right! I'm sure there's a major backstory on this vision of total insanity, and if you know what it is, please tell me. The producer of such films as GHOST, STRANGE DAYS, NEAR DARK, and MOTEL HELL directed what imdb describes as a movie in which "A former Nazi seeking to gain new power attempts to resurrect an ancient Egyptian god." This description could not possibly prepare you for what it is actually like to watch SCARAB.

The best way for me to review this movie would actually be to just describe every single thing that happens in it, in order. I genuinely wish I had time to do that. But basically, Rip Torn is a mad scientist who gets possessed by the scarab god Khepera, and goes about the business of assassinating world leaders in order to thrust the Earth into a new Dark Age to avoid nuclear war. I think. Robert Ginty plays Murphy, a journalist who is so horny that the next big journalism summit features a whole speech about how journalists shouldn't create public sex scandals. Murphy becomes aware of Khepera's evil plan, and stalks the living shit out of Elena (Cristina Pascual) who is a powerful psychic nurse who turns out to be Khepera's daughter. She basically handles the whole situation without any really necessary contributions from Murphy.

I had such a negative reaction reaction to Robert Ginty that I felt sort of bad about it. I love when he gets chased around by the laughing assassin who causes things to explode by pointing at them, but the movie's attempt to make him like a super sexual Indiana Jones is very offensive. Putting him on a motorcycle, putting him in bed with a sexy lingerie lady, putting cool-guy headphones on him, all this stuff only underlines how deeply and fundamentally uncool he is. I was so repulsed by him that I started to feel guilty, like maybe I'm just being terribly shallow; I mean some of it is definitely physical, the man is waspy and bland and has the bone structure of a Punch & Judy puppet. But here are some excerpts from his imdb page that made me feel a little better about my response to him.

Born in New York, rugged, virile, hard-looking action star Robert Ginty initially sought a career in music, becoming involved in several rock bands from age 16 on. [Long list of rock stars he hung out with that one time] He directed a rap/hip-hop musical version of Anthony Burgess' "A Clockwork Orange" to fine reviews. Once flew as passenger on a "VIP Flight" in F/A-18 Hornet with the Blue Angels.

OK you corny motherfucker, give it a rest already. In any case the real point of this movie is Rip Torn overseeing crazed black magic orgies and doing some of the strangest dance moves you have ever seen in your whole life. SCARAB is the kind of movie that you watch all of with your jaw in your lap, just passively letting it wash over you, because you really never know what you're going to see next. This is a major virtue in my book. There's also an odd competence to it, which I guess is accounted for by director Steven-Charles Jaffe's producorial chops; it's nicely shot, and the variety of interesting Spanish locations means that there is always something to look at, even when the fire-breathing cultists aren't writhing around on screen...but that very competence throws the extreme zaniness of the movie into even starker relief. SCARAB is an extraordinarily confusing movie, and in the era of used up, wrung out IPs and assembly line slop from streaming services, it's just the kind of movie we need.

#blogtober #2024 #horror #fantasy #adventure #scarab #steven-charles jaffe #rip torn #robert ginty #cristina pascual #supernatural #cult

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aslvt4ag · 1 year ago

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Title: Healing Light

Parings Andrew Garfield Peter Parker x y/n fem reader

Wordcont 530

Warnings contains themes of grief, loss, and addiction (smoking). Reader discretion is advised.

Summary: Peter Parker, still grieving Gwen's death, encountering y/n in a dimly lit alley. Initially defensive, Peter is surprised by y/n's genuine concern and innocence. Despite her refusal to smoke, y/n offers her support to Peter, reminding him of Gwen's purity and light.

An ( I just wanted to do a little reader and Peter series )

Peter Parker scowled at his reflection in the mirror, his hand running through his unkempt hair. Gwen's death still weighed heavily on his mind, a constant ache that he couldn't escape. He had become bitter, resentful, and his once cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a cold, callous attitude.

Walking through the crowded streets of New York City, Peter barely registered the people around him. He was lost in his own thoughts, consumed by grief and anger. But then, amidst the chaos, he saw her – y/n. She was different, a ray of light in his dark world.

Despite his better judgment, Peter found himself drawn to her. But his natural instinct to push people away kicked in, and he treated her with his usual disdain. Yet, y/n was undeterred, her kindness and warmth breaking through his walls bit by bit.

As days turned into weeks, Peter found himself opening up to y/n in ways he never thought possible. She became his confidante, his anchor in the storm of his emotions. And in her presence, he started to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time – hope.

But old habits die hard, and Peter's asshole tendencies still surfaced from time to time. Yet, y/n saw through his facade, understanding the pain that lingered beneath the surface. And slowly but surely, she helped him heal, showing him that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found.

Peter Parker leaned against the brick wall of a dimly lit alley, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. He took a drag, the smoke swirling around him like a shroud of darkness. He didn't care about the health risks; at that moment, all he wanted was to drown out the pain.

As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, he noticed y/n standing a few feet away, her eyes fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She seemed out of place amidst the gritty backdrop of the alley, her demeanor far too innocent for the seedy environment.

"What are you looking at?" Peter snapped, his tone laced with irritation.

Y/n flinched slightly at his harsh words but didn't back down. "Sorry, I just... I saw you standing here alone and thought you might need someone to talk to."

Peter scoffed, taking another drag of his cigarette. "I don't need your pity," he muttered, his walls already starting to go up.

Y/n hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer. "I'm not here to pity you. I just... I know what it's like to feel lost and alone. And sometimes, talking to someone can help."

For a brief moment, Peter considered brushing her off. But there was something in y/n's eyes – a glimmer of understanding that he couldn't ignore. Despite her innocence, she seemed to carry a weight of empathy that reminded him of Gwen.

"Fine," he finally relented. "You got a smoke?"

Y/n shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, I don't smoke. But I'm here if you need someone to talk to."

As they stood in the alley, the contrast between them couldn't have been starker – Peter, with his rough exterior and world-weary gaze, and y/n, with her gentle demeanor and unwavering compassion. And in that moment, Peter couldn't help but be reminded of Gwen – pure, untainted, and full of light.

#tasm peter parker #peter parker #petergwen #Peter x reader #the amazing spider man #gwen stacy #andrew!peter x reader #fanfic

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ljamberfantasy · 5 months ago

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The Elf Who Would Become A Dragon

CHAPTER 8 – A Frozen Summit

There was no reaction from the other elves when the illusory glade of flowers and floating stars dissolved away, not immediately, their silence made starker by the wintery clearing to which they had returned.

Almon found his voice first. “Must you dispute everything, child?”

The wizard was livid; his face had flushed dark red, and he threw up his suspended arm in irritation, casting whatever invisible thing had perched on his wrist into the night. He strode across to Saphienne with growing wrath. “Could you not concede me this pageantry? Would it have been so trying for you to hold back, content in the knowledge that you had seen through the spell?” He stopped before her, kicking at the snow. “Or did it not occur to you that I had planned the reveal? Why did you have to ruin things, Saphienne?”

Faylar was still looking around himself in shock. “It was a… dream?”

“A hallucination, you imbecile,” Almon snapped over his shoulder.

Looking at each other, Celaena and Iolas backed away. Everyone knew it was a dangerous thing, to anger a wizard, let alone to interfere with his magic.

Yet, for reasons she couldn’t explain, Saphienne was unafraid. “You’re angry at me, not him.”

“I know that!” His voice had risen to a roar. “Don’t you dare further condescend to me, you wretched child! Not one more remark! I won’t have it.”

Realising that she had provoked him too far, she kept silent, though she didn’t look away from him as he glowered and seethed.

Almon sensed she wasn’t intimidated, and his fiery anger slowly subsided, becoming instead the embers of dull rage. Without turning, he addressed the other children. “Iolas, Celaena, go back to your homes. Faylar, visit me on the morrow.”

Celaena turned pale. “I failed?”

Then Almon pivoted to her, and whatever was in his eyes made the girl start in fright. She recovered herself well enough to bow, and then she all but ran away, followed after by Iolas, whose eyes briefly met Saphienne’s — with clear concern for her wellbeing.

Faylar pressed his luck. “Thank you, Master Almon. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he, too, departed.

Alone now, Saphienne and the wizard faced each other.

His voice was low. “How did you see through the spell?”

She folded her hands together. “You got the flowers wrong. They smelled right, they felt right, and they looked convincing. But lavender has different leaves, and grows from a shrub, not as a single flower.”

His brow was furrowed. “That was all?”

Saphienne shook her head. “I also… recognised the colour. The blue. Like the blue you’re wearing.”

The wizard took a deep, steadying breath. “You know the colours of magic?”

“No.” She shrugged lightly. “I’ve seen a fascinator before. Knowing what it does, recognising blue among its colours, seeing the flowers… I didn’t know, but I felt something was wrong. Then you mentioned reality, and it all clicked into place.”

Almon walked away from her, his breath visible in the cold air. His hand went to the bridge of his nose, and then he flinched with his whole body, glaring up at his shoulder and muttering something in a language she didn’t speak. He paced back and forth for the better part of a minute, grumbling all the while.

When he returned, his fury had subsided into familiar annoyance. “Had I reason to suspect you were so observant,” he sighed, “I would have disguised the spell. Red would have been the appropriate colour.”

“Red is the colour of… another type of magic?”

“Another discipline.” His lips were drawn, downturned. “Conjuration. Blue is the colour of Hallucination. But any half-decent wizard can alter the gross appearance of their magic, should he have need to.”

“I didn’t do it to spite you.”

He studied her face. “Why did you?”

“I needed to know what was real.”

Unexpectedly, he smiled. “Had you not taken me by surprise, your hand would have brushed across the flower. My force of belief is usually much stronger, but I hadn’t even considered the possibility that one of you would have cause to doubt my work.”

“Your belief in the hallucination?”

“The discipline of Hallucination hinges on belief. A wizard must know the illusion to be false, and yet believe anyway, in order to sustain the magic.” He looked up at the revealed night sky, contemplating the truer, more distant stars. “So too a wizard must not lose their knowledge that it is false, or the magic will unravel. The art of Hallucination lies in sustaining a waking dream, which requires a fertile imagination, and suspension, but not annihilation, of disbelief.”

Saphienne looked away. “I apologise, for ruining your theatrics.”

“I don’t believe you regret it, Saphienne, but I accept your apology all the same.”

“Why?”

Almon folded his arms. “You’re clearly, irrefutably proud. Offering up your pride when you don’t believe you were wrong, that means more than contrition.”

Too late to make a difference, Saphienne grasped what drove Almon to teach, and thereby what it was he looked for in prospective students. Yet the knowledge only puzzled her. “Why did you choose Faylar?”

“Faylar?” His expression was dismissive. “I simply owe the boy an apology. He is hardly intelligent, but he’s hardly an imbecile. My misdirected anger makes the fact that I’m refusing him all the more awkward.”

Saphienne felt as though the ground beneath her was beginning to shift. “Then, why wasn’t he suitable?”

“You tell me, since you’re so observant.”

She closed her eyes as she reflected on the night. “He kept complimenting you. While he did notice the differently drawn stars in my calligraphy, he dismissed their significance, and went on to argue with Iolas when he said my work was better. He stressed how well prepared he was, but when you asked him to rephrase an answer to your question, he floundered.”

“And so?”

Saphienne met his gaze again. “He was prepared — by someone else. He’s got a good memory for turns of phrase, so he knew the things to say, but they weren’t things he understood, because he struggles to learn, since he’s unobservant, and doesn’t know when to defer to more learned people.”

“You might be accused of that last failing.”

Smiling very brightly, she answered with levity she didn’t feel. “Well, whoever thought that would be wrong, and not worth deferring to — wouldn’t they?”

Almon didn’t return her smile, now keeping his emotions at a distance, but there was a hint of… not quite respect, though a sentiment similar to it showed in his eyes. “What of the others, then?”

Saphienne didn’t know what to make of events. “You sent them home, which suggests you’re done with them, but I had the wrong impression about your intentions toward Faylar. I can’t tell what you plan for them.”

“To examine them further.” He shifted his weight, his expression remaining even. “Both of them show promise for different reasons. Iolas interests me in particular. He clearly doesn’t want to be a wizard, not really, but he feels obliged to become one… and will try, even though he prefers calligraphy.”

The memory of Iolas’ willingness to concede his loss, together with his story about his father, supported what the wizard said. “Is he doing it for someone else?”

“I don’t yet know.” A hint of thoughtfulness crept into Almon’s voice. “The boy has will enough to stand up for himself, so perhaps he seeks my instruction for the sake of many other people, not to please one in particular. He would be happier with his inks and papers, but happiness and power seldom intertwine.”

“And Celaena?”

“A by-the-numbers candidate for wizardry.” He permitted himself to smile at his own joke, then discarded his good humour. “I will, in all likelihood, teach her. She seems a little impulsive, and keen to make more of herself than she is… but I can hardly fault her for those tendencies. She might well learn more impressive behaviours from them.”

“Leaving only me.”

“Ah, the girl speaks as though she doesn’t secretly hope.” His tone was mocking despite his flat expression, and he loomed over her. “You still think I’m going to teach you, after all that has happened?”

Saphienne felt more unnerved by that question than she did by the prior threat of his anger. She swallowed. “Haven’t you been teaching me just now?”

“Or am I just throwing salt on the wound?”

“You haven’t made your mind up.” She felt the coin, still in her hand throughout all that had happened. “But you don’t want to, and you haven’t wanted to since before we met.”

“Correct.” His voice became colder than the field. “I dislike you, girl. At first I was being entirely unfair in my dislike, but now I can say for certain you have all the worst qualities that I despise in grown elves. I don’t believe you will grow out of them.”

Still, he was undecided, which Saphienne thought over quickly. “Which implies I have qualities that recommend me despite your dislike.”

“Regrettably so. You have several, rare traits of character held by only the finest wizards. Do you expect me to name them for you? Do you hope for compliments? I will not.”

“But you’ll enumerate my failings as it pleases you,” Saphienne retorted.

“Well, now I won’t. At least, not tonight.” He stepped away, turning his back to her as he gazed up at the stars again. “Perhaps not ever, if we have no further reason to associate. But I must make up my mind, which means I must ask you what I will ask the other two. I will give you this courtesy: consider your answer very carefully, for I will base my decision entirely on what you tell me.”

“I would like to ask a question, first.”

He turned back toward her, a little further than should have been necessary to see over his shoulder. “Ask it. I may answer.”

“You speak as though you might teach all three of us.” She took a deep breath. “How many students do you teach at once?”

“No more than five in any group, though I teach several groups throughout the year, differing by age and degree of practice.” He watched as the realisation lit her face. “Ah, you thought you were all competing for limited places? But you were the one who made it a competition, Saphienne, when you wouldn’t accept my refusal.”

Saphienne blinked. “But you let us compete.”

“As it happens, it made for a very good way to learn more about you all. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have set you in competition with each other, but you did that yourself, and why disabuse you of your error? Whether or not I will instruct you all in the Great Art, teaching moments must be seized upon when they present themselves.”

Looking at the portly wizard as he studied the night sky, Saphienne felt both shame for her conduct and rising ire toward Almon. Had he not been set against her, she wouldn’t have been so combative, wouldn’t have had to force her way back into the fold. That he exploited the situation under the excuse of teaching made it worse, for really, she felt certain he did it for his own amusement.

Pride: that was what drove him, and what he respected, and why he loved his theatrics, which were his way of keeping himself apart, and so superior. What he wanted was to feel proud of himself, but he accomplished that not through raising others up, but by climbing above them, even forcing them down… where he could justify doing so.

Of course he hated Filaurel. She wouldn’t think well of him at all. And unlike him, she could find her happiness in others. That was how she was with–

“Are you prepared?”

Eyes burning, Saphienne nodded, then spoke aloud. “Ask your question.”

Almon faced her as he asked it. “Saphienne, why do you want to learn the art of magic?”

* * *

Before Gaeleath had arrived to teach Saphienne sculpture, there was a period after finishing shoe making with Ninleyn where she returned to the library, falling into the old routine of practicing her calligraphy and helping with the books. Working alongside Filaurel was pleasant, and even though they had still seen each other most days, Saphienne realised how much she had missed her prolonged company during her other studies.

“Saphienne,” Filaurel asked one evening, when no one else was visiting, “why sculpture? Is it related to your other choices?”

Saphienne had been reading quietly by the fireplace, and she frowned, memorising the page number before closing her book. “No one else has asked.”

“You’re thorough, but you’re not obsessive. I don’t believe your studies are just stepping stones to you.”

Looking up at the librarian, she felt fully visible for the first time since Kylantha had left… the memory of which she pushed down. She looked away, into the fire, very much a moody teenager. “Aren’t they?”

Filaurel sat next to her. “Not if I know you. Do I know you?”

She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. “Better than the rest. I’m sorry.” With a shake of her head she met her gaze. “I… you’re going to think I’m pretentious.”

“If it’s important to you, it’s not pretentious.”

Saphienne considered this. “…All right, then. I’m preoccupied by questions of form. What makes an elf an elf? How do you look at someone and decide whether they’re an elf?”

“That explains the sculpture. I don’t follow how it relates to the rest.”

“But that’s the point,” Saphienne insisted, leaning forward. “What distinguishes the form of a thing from how it appears? How someone dresses, the things they wear — aren’t they just as much a part of how we perceive them? Doesn’t that change their appearance, and doesn’t that change their form?”

“Well, some philosophers would say someone’s true form is what is fixed within them. Elves are born elves, and thereby remain elves.”

“Yet, elves change.” She gestured to her own hair. “Brown, blonde, red, white; elves differ across the seasons, and that change is part of us. Our form changes.”

“In fixed ways. Hair changes with the season, but it’s predictable. Our ears stay the same throughout.”

“If I were to have an accident, and lose my ears, would I be less of an elf?”

Filaurel flinched, and her ears twitched, as though Saphienne had struck them. Her lips moved, but no words followed. Then she swallowed, shaking her head. “…That’s a hard question. Usually, if you asked anyone that, they’d tell you no.”

“That’s a lie, though, isn’t it?”

The librarian breathed out slowly. “Ears are important to us. Losing them would be tragic. It would… I suppose, honestly, it would diminish you. That’s how we’d see it. Like you had lost an important part of being an elf. Not that anyone would tell you so.”

Saphienne was slightly surprised that she admitted it. “Then you must accept that what makes someone an elf is not fixed. If it can be diminished, can it also be added to? Does how it’s presented change what it is? Where is the line drawn?”

Now Filaurel was watching Saphienne intently, and her eyes held a glimmer of memory. Whatever she remembered, she did not say, but there was sadness in the way she inclined her head. “I don’t have a good answer. But I would be careful who else you put these questions to. Most around here won’t like to think about them.”

“I know,” Saphienne replied, returning to her book. “I wouldn’t bother asking anyone else. Especially since you’re all wrong.”

“Wrong, how?”

“I’d still be just as much of an elf if I lost my ears.” She spoke with absolute conviction that made her seem younger, and yet also older, than she was. “It’s not ears that make elves what they are. It’s not any individual thing. Or all the many things together.”

Filaurel furrowed her brow. “Then what does?”

“I don’t know. Not yet. But I’ll find out.”

* * *

Almon’s question was simple, spoken quietly, but Saphienne could swear she heard it echoing from the trees around the clearing.

She took her time composing her answer.

“I told you before,” Saphienne said, “that I broke your hallucination because I needed to know what was real. You never pressed me on why that was so important. I think you know why it is; and I think you detest many things you read in me that you also detest in yourself, though you would never admit that. Nor do I want you to.”

The wizard didn’t interrupt, but she felt his attention sharpen.

“What makes something real?” She spoke as though sincerely asking him, even giving him chance to reply, an opportunity he didn’t take. She went on. “The world is governed by the laws of nature, but Celaena was right when she said that magic lies beyond and above all the laws of nature. Does that make magic more real than those laws? Is magic the absolute truth, the ruling against which there’s no further petition?

“I’ve been thinking about these things. About what’s real, and what’s not. About what makes things true or false. I know someone who uses a fascinator every day. It makes her happy, to spend her life hallucinating, and she spends so much of her time that way — is that more real to her than the rest of her life? Did the wizard, or sorcerer, or whoever it was who made the fascinator — did they make her world for her?

“Even in this world,” Saphienne went on, “in this ‘real’ world, how much of it can we know for certain? What if all of life is a hallucination? And who are we, if there’s the chance that might be true? What makes us who we are? We say we’re elves, but what does that even mean, when a wizard can change their form through magic?

“I have so many questions. And I know that studying magic will just provoke more. But I can’t let these things go.” Her jaw tightened. “I won’t. How can I accept the world, accept what’s true or false, what’s right or wrong, when I don’t even understand what the world is? When it seems like… no one does.”

She sighed, feeling tired. “If you refuse me, I’ll find another way. You’ll make it much harder. And I won’t pretend I like you, either, even if you do teach me.” In spite of her tiredness, she held herself tall. “But I will learn until you can’t teach me any more. And you’ll know that I learned because of you, that I learned from you. Or that you proved me unworthy of the Great Art, which perhaps I am. Maybe magic is the only thing that’s real, and the only thing that has any real worth. One way or another, I need to know.”

She lapsed into silence.

Almon gave no indication as to whether he was swayed, only asking, “Are you done?”

Saphienne nodded.

“You do like to hear yourself talk.” He shook his head, started out toward the treeline behind her, but paused as he drew alongside. “Visit me again when you’ve turned fourteen.”

Saphienne stood still as she watched him go.

Then, suddenly able to move again, she called after him. “Does that mean I’m your apprentice?”

“Ask Filaurel what’s next.” He didn’t bother looking back. “She’ll know what to do with you. And give her my regards when you see her.”

And as he passed out of sight, only Saphienne was left in the glade, there to contemplate the stars overhead that – so the poem had said – needed no further explanation.

End of Chapter 8

When I Heard the Learn'd Magician

#elves #fantasy #lgbt #progress fiction #web serial #writing #writers on tumblr #the elf who would become a dragon #tewwbad #content warnings available on the author's website

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